


No Such Thing As Time

by PCBW



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: AU, F/M, New Earth, resolutions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-25 06:10:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 46
Words: 63,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3799807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PCBW/pseuds/PCBW
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU New Earth fic.  Updates regularly, ongoing process.<br/>Becca</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Often when she wasn’t looking, he let himself discern things he hadn’t been able to before.  He catalogued the length of her hair, flowing down her back, now freed from the tortuous bun that held it on the ship.  And the sunshine, so abundant here, highlighted coppers and golds he’d never known painted the long strands. 

Chakotay liked to watch her in the little things she did, like the way she pursed her lips in frustration when the solution to a problem dangled just out of reach; the muffled curses that she sang under her breath, or how sometimes she’d laugh at herself and share her own amusement.

“What?”

Instantly blushing, he smiled palpable dimples at his being caught,  “nothing.”

“I catch you doing that a lot these days,” she smiled, not the least bit bothered.  “Something on your mind?”

“No,” Chakotay shook his head and settled his bottom back into the chair.  “Not really.”

Kathryn sat back and looked miserably out the window, “it’s raining,” she sulked the obvious. 

“I know,” Chakotay took a deep breath and let it out. “You can’t go peeking in your traps.”

“Not that there’d be any bugs in them. They’ve all probably burrowed into trees and underground to wait out the storm.”  She laughed to herself after a silence, “I can’t understand this planet – plasma storms, rain storms, ion storms…!  Couldn’t we have gotten bitten somewhere a little more temperate? 

Chakotay joined in her laughter as he got up to peek out the window, “It would have been nice…”  

“I remember the storms in Indiana,” her voice took on a wistful note.  “The thunder across the plains.  I once saw lightening that split a tree in two!” 

“In two?” He clarified, disbelieving. 

“Uh huh.  I was only six years old and…” She took a breath, closing her eyes as she gave a quick shake of her head.  “Well I don’t think I had ever been that scared.  I was all alone in the house when the storm came; my mother and Phoebe had gone into town that day – I think Phoebe wanted to buy art supplies and a canvass, and I remember…” 

Chakotay turned his head, smiling at the way her eyes lit, caught up in her memories.  He was being indulgent, he thought – he gained too much enjoyment in watching her like this. 

“… The way the storm rolled in. One minute the sun was so bright, shining in the windows of my bedroom and nearly blinding me. And the next thing I knew, the sky was black.  The lightening started almost immediately, and the thunder followed not moments later. It wasn’t the first storm I’d ever seen, but it was the first one where I was alone…”

“Storms are frightening for anyone,” He soothed, drawing her away from the memory and back to him. 

“Yes,” She met his brown eyes and shrugged not a little sheepishly.  “Well…”

Chakotay smiled and gave a nod along with a quick cursory tug on the ear, “well, how about dinner?”    

Kathryn gave a shrug and made him laugh, “I could always eat.”

Eyes still on the painting in front of them, he responded with a chuckle,“The winds of change are blowing through this household then!”  

She rolled her eyes and made an incredulous face.  “I eat!”

“Oh?” His voice strained as he reached inside of the stasis unit.  “Tell that to the half full bowls of food I find strewn here and there.” 

“You’re exaggerating.”

“Oh, _Okay.”_ He nodded sarcastically, feeling the smile greet his back.  “So did the tree really split in two?” 

“Well,” Kathryn sat back in the small chair and made a face.  “Maybe not _completely_ …” 

“But?”

“A few branches fell off.  I remember cleaning it up the next day with my mother in the garden.” 

“Like we do here.” 

“Yes,” She nodded and spoke softly. “Like we do here.”


	2. Chapter 2

The rain didn’t stop until late in the evening, making Kathryn think of the mess that would greet her thin shoes when she stepped out of the shelter in the morning. But for now, she simply enjoyed the earthy smells that seeped in through the open window on the breeze. 

“I like that smell,” He yawned, putting a voice to her thoughts. 

“Yes,” She said and turned her eyes back to her work. “So do I.” 

“I’m going to bed,” Chakotay gave a nod, getting up and leaving the clutter on his workspace. “I’ll see you in the morning, Kathryn. Don’t stay up too late,” he winked. 

Kathryn gave him a look, “you sound like my mother.”

He only shrugged, “that’s not such a bad thing.” 

“Stop it, you,” She laughed, shaking her head at the easy banter that played between them. “Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight Kathryn.” 

She remembered back to the first night, when the sound had been nearly annoying. Kathryn was used to the faint buzz of Voyager’s engines, not the chirping insects, and not his breathing. But after three weeks, it was like a lullaby that she couldn’t sleep without. 

It wasn’t loud, per se. It was just there. In and out, so softly it would go. The sound narrating her thoughts, she imagined what he would dream about; maybe the ship, or a lover he left somewhere along the way…? Perhaps he dreamed of his family and all the ones he left behind. Or maybe he dreamt of nothing and his sleep was deep and restful. 

Sometimes he would start speaking softly, mostly gibberish of English mixed with beautifully foreign words she had never heard before. She thought to ask him about them, but nearly always forgot when the chance presented itself. 

The table felt lonely without him and the little movements he made that kept her distractedly engaged with her task. In the stillness, she sat for a few moments while tired eyes scanned the bland readout of the computer screen as a yawn escaped her lips. She was more tired now, she noticed, after a long day. On Voyager, she thought her energy interminable, but now, in the sunlight and the warmth, she seemed to fatigue more easily. 

She listened to his breath, measured, steady, on the other side of the partition, and turning, Kathryn could see his outline through the frosted Plexiglas that separated them. Head resting in her hands, she watched him move – tossing to a fro on the small, cramped bed. 

Every night she heard that same restlessness; no doubt he was as uncomfortable in his bed as she was in hers. The beds (even the house itself!) were only fit for children, she thought, and they reminded Kathryn of the play houses she and Phoebe had when they were growing up. 

A tense breath escaped her lips followed on its heels by another yawn as she looked around once more at the drab walls. This was where we’re relegated to spend eternity… The thought put a sink in her stomach when she juxtaposed it to the one that she held so dearly in her heart – the one of going home. 

She tried not to, but couldn’t help for a flashed moment thinking of her mother and Phoebe and the notion that she would never again see their faces. 

Funnily, Mark’s staid face never entered her conscience or her longing, and the notion made her feel cold when she thought of it. She didn’t miss him as much as she thought she should. 

Her lips gave a gentle quirk as she tried and failed to conjure the intricacies of his face. She could remember grey and wrinkles, and in a moment it made her think of her grandfather. Wriggling uncomfortably in the chair, she tried to remember his laughter - the few moments of it that she’d heard in their time together. Nothing came, though – not the sound of his voice, not the crinkle of joy around his eyes. Nothing… 

But she had loved him, hadn’t she? And she wanted to be faithful to him, but did it mean anything anymore. Did it? 

Chakotay turned again and sighed, drawing her attention back to the figure behind the glass, “Go to sleep, Kathryn,” She heard a sleepily resigned smile in his voice and it fomented one of hers. 

“All right,” She yawned, getting up and letting her fingers dance across the console on the wall and turn the lights off. “Good night, Chakotay.”


	3. Chapter 3

He thinks the days can stretch into infinity here. The sun rises early and doesn’t set until late in a haze of fiery pastels. They think it’s summer but can’t be sure until they learn more about the biosphere. 

Kathryn keeps putting off that particular study; bar the bugs, it seems as though she doesn’t want to know anything about this place. Perhaps it would suggest too much a sense of permanence, and she still hopes for a way to leave. 

Not far away, humming muffled curse words to herself, she catches her fingers in the traps. She works for more hours than she sleeps on the traps and insects that she harvests. Kathryn is meticulous in her work, and through her dedication he can easily see how she’s achieved what she has in so little time. 

Chakotay watches her, turning his head and smiling as his hears listened before turning his attention back to his task. 

The wood glides seamlessly under his fingertips. The texture is different than the trees on Dorvan that he grew up working; they’re even different from the trees on Earth. The material is smoother, more malleable – perhaps more pleasurable to manipulate. 

Distracted for another moment, he looks off into the distance for his eyes to catch a sight of the clearing in the front of their home where the tub he made not a week ago sits. Chakotay is proud of that work and the craftsmanship of it; he’s proud of the look in her eyes when he showed it to her. He is proud of how much she uses it, revels in it. 

It’s starting to become an addiction – pleasing her. He thinks back to when they were on the ship, and it had been then too, but now even more so. 

Two nights ago he’d presented her with a headboard, but it wasn’t enough – only something to palliate. But still she was pleased. He hears her every night, though, tossing and turning in the small cramped mattress just beside him and he started to wonder about making bigger beds. Bigger beds, though, necessitate a bigger house as nothing more than simple twin size mattresses would fit into those small partitions. 

His eyes scan the small shelter that they had called home for the past few weeks, and like always, he’s disappointed. Spending the rest of his life in such a place where beige walls sing of Starfleet homogeneity. 

“Chakotay?” He hadn’t heard her footsteps behind him, and for a moment he’s startled. 

He turns to her and smiles, “Yes, Kathryn?”

She looks him up and down for a few moments, examining the muscles she can see under the baggy striped shirt, now wet from his exertion, before slowly sitting on the low-lying tree branch by his workspace. “Nothing,” She breathes, leaning back against the tree. “I think I know what you’re thinking about.” 

“Oh?” He laughs, stepping away from his workspace to sit next to her. “What am I thinking about?” 

She smiles cheekily as the light reflects off her blue eyes, “building something…” 

“Yes,” he laughs outright at that, “and you’d be right.” 

Kathryn turns her head to the right and shields her eyes from the sun, “What do you want to build?” 

Chakotay sets down the tools on the bench and sits down next to her on the low-lying branch. With a deep breath he clears his nose and meets her eyes, “a home.”


	4. Chapter 4

The silence stretches between the two for more than enough moments to make it awkward until she lets her eyes fall with a nod, “Home,” she whispers. “I keep forgetting that we’re not going to leave here…” 

“Kathryn,” He whispers and goes to tentatively take her hand before she pulls it away. 

“No,” Kathryn shakes her head. “It’s all right. You’re right… we may never leave here. Here this desolate planet with just the two of us, for the rest of our lives…” 

He says nothing and moves back a bit on the branch, but she continues. “I think I knew that… I know that. When we said goodbye to our crew, I knew that. When Tuvok told me Voyager was leaving orbit, I knew that. But there’s such a finality to our lives here,” her eyes meet his again. “How far away do you think she is?” 

“Voyager?” He asks redundantly while he thinks on the answer. “About three weeks by shuttle if she was standing in space… we would never make it in a shuttle, Kathryn, even if we did find a cure.” 

Her heart sinks with information that she already knew, “I have to keep looking Chakotay. I can’t accept-“ 

“I know,” Chakotay’s eyes meet hers again and his words are so soft they’re almost whispered. “What I’m doing makes you uncomfortable, doesn’t it?” 

Kathryn gives a small nod, “It feels like you’ve given up.” 

A small dimple indents on his cheek, “I’m not as tenacious as you are, Kathryn. The reality is that we may never leave here. So,” He pauses and looks at the shelter again. “I’m trying to make a home here. Something more than a plain, grey box...” 

“I can understand that,” Kathryn begins to rise. “You’re a nester, aren’t you?” 

“A nester?” He laughs his confusion. 

“It’s something my mother called my sister – she liked to stay in one place and wherever we would go, even if it was just for a weekend, she would bring a full suitcase with her things like she was moving there.” 

Chakotay gives a small laugh at her story, “A nester, huh? Maybe that’s what I am, then.” 

“Certainly,” Kathryn chuckles before she steps away. “Well, I tried a new glucose bait in the traps…” 

“Maybe you’ll make a break through,” He suggests. 

“Maybe,” She winks. 

“Will you be home for dinner?” He asks, picking up his tools again. 

“Yes,” She smiles. “As long as I don’t have to make it.” 

“Heaven forbid!” 

“Chakotay!” She laughs, her voice echoing down the trail. “I’ll see you later!”


	5. Chapter 5

A storm came later that night and washed it all away.

Early in the day, the sun had been shining down on his back, warming, burning. The wood under his fingertips siphoned his attention as he worked the tools over and over to make it smooth. Plans rolled over in his mind; a headboard and a bathtub under his belt, he wanted to try for a table to replace the cramped utilitarian workspace in their kitchen.

So focused, he barely noticed the change in temperature until the sun was almost completely hidden behind the clouds. It started as a breeze that rustled through the trees, and for a moment he thought it like the night before when they’d gotten all the rain. He packed up his tools and placed the utilitarian blue tarp over his project and started calling Kathryn’s name, hoping she would hear him and make it home before the storm.

He never anticipated how quickly the storm would come though. “Kathryn!” A green/grey miasma swirled around them, viscous and rough against him. He had known plasma storms before, but never of this magnitude. “Kathryn!” He called again, venturing to the edge of the clearing. She wasn’t anywhere in sight and she wasn’t answering. Please come home, Kathryn! He started the mantra in his head, like a prayer.

“Kathryn! Where are you?!”

His ears were sharp, tuned to anything other than the violent rustling of the leaves so that he might hear her.

“Kathryn!”

He tore behind the short trees and heard something other than the inclement weather, “Kathryn!” The relief he felt at seeing her tingled all the way to his toes.

“Chakotay!” She looked up from the ground, kit cradled to her chest like a child.

He crouched to her level and looked her over frantically in the hazy green darkness, “are you hurt?”

“No,” She was shaking. “I just couldn’t keep my balance and carry the case.”

“Give it to me,” He pulled her up with his arms around her.

“What’s going on?!”

“It seems to be some sort of plasma storm! The tricorders don’t recognise it, but it sure packs a whollop!”

Kathryn had breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of him. The strength of the storm was fiercer than anything she’d experienced in Indiana, and those storms had scared the hell out of her.

The winds picked up as they ran the way back to the shelter, battering them this way and that. They stumbled a little in their clumsiness, as he wouldn’t take his arms from around her.

They would have been faster had he simply take her hand and dragged her along with him. But he wouldn’t take his arms from around her, and for the moment she didn’t mind; solely happy to feel safe and sheltered.

He pried open the door of their battered abode and ushered her inside. “Under the table!” He said. “It’ll be safest there.”

She nodded as they crouched low under the solid structure. Outside, the winds were getting stronger and she could feel the home beginning to shake more. Her heart beat uncomfortably in her ears as she felt him curl up behind her – felt his arms close around her. “Oh!” Kathryn brought her hands up to her mouth as the house began to shake and belongings fell from the cabinets and counters.

Hand over her mouth, she watched her world fall apart for the third time. She hadn’t realised she was crying until her heard his voice in her ear, “Shh,” He whispered. “It’s all right,” those words, he sang over and over as a mantra and slowed her feverish pulse. “We’re okay.”

* * *

 

Her breathing began to calm and the chaos around her, harried as it was, started to fade away. She felt his arms around her, hands moving in soothing circles around her bicep. His body was warm and covered her like a safety blanket, and Chakotay spoke soothingly and didn’t release his hold on her until the storm died down.

“It’s all gone,” She said once the words came to her in the silent wake of the maelstrom. “Everything is gone.”

And it was. Their house was in shambles, most things broken and irreparably damaged.

“I know,” He soothed. “But we’ll start again.”

“Again,” She let the word out in a solemn breath. “That’s all we seem do to. Start again. Nothing finished.”

He closed his eyes against the truth of her words and released her from his arms, “I know. Let’s see what’s outside”

She felt immediately lonely without his warmth on her back, but only lingered for a moment before she followed.


	6. Chapter 6

There was resistance when he opened to door to reveal the catastrophe that had been laid by the storm. Miserably, she followed behind him, giving a small weep when she took in the scene that met her eyes.

Kathryn crouched down, rubbing her eyes against the carnage before them. Traps that she’d set around the shelter were broken and empty – all the work that she had put in was now meaningless. Gone. “None of this is salvageable," she rubbed her brow, holding back tears of endless frustration.  "There’s no way I can continue my research.”

He regarded her solemnly. “I’m sorry,” his answer was soft and sincere.

She met his eyes once before turning back to what was before her. “Well,” Her lungs drew in a deep breath and let it out. “We might as well clean up. I’ll start on the inside,” she said, turning back into the shelter.  

“I’ll clear away these fallen branches," She heard him say before she disappeared behind the shelter's flimsy walls.  For a moment, hidden from his pitiful gaze, she sat and took in the disaster that decorated the room around her. Most of the precious things were broken in pieces on the floor and her work was scattered.  Most of it was meaningless now anyways and could be recycled. 

Her gut churned with anger and sadness as she started arranging the chaos.  This isn't how it was supposed to be... none of it.  

Neither of them spoke for the remainder of the day, not until long past the violaceous sunset bled into a star speckled sky. Near the end, he was sore from the work, but found it dually disappointing and gratifying, as all of the mess - mostly fallen branches, were stockpiled in a heap near the home; perhaps they would be useful for something he would make. His lips quirked a wry smile as he looked at the sturdy structure in the clearing – at least the bathtub was relatively unharmed.

Chakotay turned from his tired survey to find her leaning against the door, watching him. “Are you disappointed?” She asked softly.

He bowed his head and closed his eyes, thinking on the question before he spoke the answer. “I’m disappointed for you, Kathryn, that you’ve lost your work.”

A long Silence stretched between before she nodded and turned back inside. “Do you want something to eat?”

“Did you make something?”

“Me? No,” Kathryn huffed a laugh. “That’s your forte.”

“Ah,” Chakotay chuckled and followed her into the shelter. “So I suppose the question is, are _you_ hungry?”

She turned and leaned against the tidied table and gave a half smile. _“Starving_.”

“So that means I’m cooking?” He teased, walking over to the stasis unit to discover anything acceptable.

“Uh huh.”

He shook his head in amusement. “To tell you the truth, I’m starving, too. We missed lunch.”

The shirt soaked in sweat clung to his body, outlining the bulky definition of his chest. It was hard not to look, and hard to hide that she was looking. “I thought so,” her answer was more breathless than she anticipated.

Chakotay beamed under her appraisal. “I suppose I’ll, uh, get take a shower before we eat…”

“Shower,” Kathryn blushed when she realised he’d seen her and turned away to fiddle with the small nothings on the table. “Yes. I’ll, uh, set the table.”

He walked away with his face down, his smile hidden as he closed the bathroom door behind him. That big grin was barely tamped as he felt the sonic rays carry away the dirt and grime of the day, leaving him clean. On days like this, he wished for a water shower, like the ones he had grown up with. After long days of physical work, there was something soothing about the way the water felt on his aching muscles. The sonic shower didn’t seem to have the same effect, but it was refreshing nevertheless.

The look he’d seen in Kathryn’s eyes stayed with him and he kept it like a snapshot in his mind. Chakotay would often catch her watching him and the movements that he made, but never before with such a hunger.

Over the past two years, they had grown increasingly aware of the other. But, small touches, lingering glances, and subtle flirtation was all they ever shared. If it crossed his lips that he did not desire more with her, then it would have been a lie. Chakotay had been captivated from the moment that he’d seen her on his hazy view screen. But it was only that – captivation, and perhaps a healthy dose of awe.

It wasn’t long, though, into their journey that it transformed into love.

Love…

The word stopped him as he donned a fresh shirt; could he call it love? He knew nearly nothing about her, only her voice, her mannerisms, her ideas – nothing of her past, bar small snippets and anecdotes that she offered so abstemiously; he knew nothing of likes and dislikes more than how she did and didn’t like her coffee, her intense dislike of radishes, her love of a good vintage bottle….

Still, she was a constant presence in his mind, and every other thought was of her, about her, for her. And he loved her; would do anything for her; would willingly lay down his life for her.

She was still blushingly uncomfortable when he opened the door and entered the kitchen. “How about something simple?” He smiled.

Kathryn nodded, “sounds good.”

“I was thinking…” He trailed off when the knife hit the cutting board and the replicated vegetables spilt their juice over the counter.

“Yes?”

“I was thinking: we need to start planting our own food. If we’re going to be here for a long time we have to preserve the replicators.”

“Mmm,” She fiddled with the plates on the table. “I was thinking the same thing. Kes gave me some seeds from the airponics bay. I have a little experience with gardening, maybe tomorrow we can start planting them.”

“We’ll need to see about this planet’s ecosystem; if there’s going to be a winter and when it will come.”

“Yes,” She said. “We could run sensors from the shuttle.”

“Good thinking,” He passed. “Do you want tomato on your salad?”

“Yes, thank you. And what about water – plumbing?”

“I was thinking about that as well. We’re also going to need more space, and something sturdier that can withstand storms a little better.”

Kathryn nodded, “A home, you mean.”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“Well,” He rubbed his neck absently and looked out one of the shelter’s three windows. “I was thinking that I could build something.”

“Build? Out of wood?”

“Yes,” He answered. “I built a few with my father on Dorvan when I was younger, and I think I still remember how. We can harvest the wood from the forest.”

“How would you mill it?”

He turned to get the rest of their dinner as she sat down at the table. “I was thinking I could do a certain amount with a phaser and the rest we could leave as logs.”

“As in a log cabin?” She grinned, taking a bite of the dinner he’d made.

“Yes,” He nodded, smiling as he took a bite of his sandwich. “We would have to replicate the nails and a few other supplies, but I think I could do it.”

She laughed through the next bit of food, “I feel like a pioneer!”

“I guess that would be an accurate description,” He shared in her reverie. “24th Century pioneers.”

“It makes sense,” Kathryn looked glumly at the drab room around them. “We can’t live in this shelter forever.”

“No,” His eyes followed her line of sight. “We certainly can’t.”


	7. Chapter 7

He slept easily that night with the cool air bleeding in through the slit he called a bedroom window. The sounds of the forest – the gentle rustling of the leaves, the sounds of animals like the monkey they’d met in weeks before, and the bugs who only seemed to come out at night – soothed him and lulled him into a dreamless sleep.

Chakotay had gone to bed before her, leaving her like he usually did, with a nod and a warm grin. She would watch him leave, watch him behind the blurred glass as he threw off his shirt and trousers and fell into the narrow bed. 

The sound of his breath and the subtle chirps of their new home seemed to centre her after the length of the day while her fingers tapped aimlessly on the console in front of her. She breathed deeply in and out, once and then twice as he eyes scanned the schematics on the screen. 

She was compiling sensor data that Voyager had collected and sent to them before their departure. The planet’s climates were uniformly distributed; much like they were on Earth, though nowhere was particularly inclement. 

He began to snore behind the partition and for a moment she started to smile. It was a soft sound, new for him. Maybe she would tease him about it in the morning, but for now she would find her own rest. She wasn’t tireless anymore… She wasn’t anything anymore. And that thought, more than any other, put a pit in her stomach. 

Her whole life she wanted to be someone. Armed with a commanding voice and a dogged tenacity, she fought to become something her father would be proud of. The thought of him brought dual feelings of affection and inadequacy. 

Her father had never given her any indication that she be anything other than her best, but at the very same time she felt it wasn’t enough – that he wasn’t asking enough. And after the crash, after his death, she wished he had demanded so much more from her instead of the relentless kindness and encouragement that he constantly offered. 

What would Edward have said if he was here now, seeing her like this? Would he have been similarly proud, or would he have been righteously disappointed at her many follies? 

They were questions Kathryn thought on more than she should. 

Chakotay’s snoring kept up on the other side of the wall and for just a flashed moment, the sound was more annoying than it was endearing. He reminded her so much of Edward with his dogged kindness and the quiet strength that he exuded… He never asked anything of her, only offered that same quiet reassurance and support. But sometimes, she wished that he would push her – demand more from her. She wished he would tell her that her clinging to the hope of leaving here was foolish; she wished that he would tell her that the distance that she kept between them was irrational… 

But just as soon as that rushed exasperation came, it went away; those were the qualities that she loved about him – the same qualities that she loved about her father. 

It wasn’t long, as she listened to that beloved sound that she fell into a deep sleep lulled there by the sounds of his breathing and precious thoughts of him.


	8. Chapter 8

She looked beautiful first thing in the morning, he thought. Tousled, her hair fell in soft sleep-pressed waves that tumbled down her back like a waterfall. Her face looked different, too and when she smiled at him with her face stripped bare of the little make up she wore, his heart stopped. “Good morning,” she gave him a sleepy smile. “You snored last night.”

“Me?” He pointed his finger towards his chest with a face of incredulity as he handed her a mug of pressed coffee. “I snored?”

“Mm,” Her smile broadened and she gave a laugh. “You snored.”

“I’d better be careful then; I’m becoming my father,” He shook his head against the notion. “Well,” the timbres in his voice strained as he took a seat at the table and changed the subject. “How did you sleep, despite my snoring?”

She snorted a laugh over her morning cup. “Fine, thank you.”

“I thought I would help you with the garden today, if you like.”

“I would, thank you,” She winked. “I’ve kept all the seeds in the drawer under my bed. I looked at them a few days after we came here and there must be twelve different types of seeds.”

“What types?”

“Talaxian tomatoes,” she remembered. “Potato, lettuce, a type of squash I’ve never seen…”

“Hopefully not leola root,” he made her laugh.

“Hopefully not! If it is, I’m not planting it.”

“No need to corrupt the soil with it,” he teased.

“Certainly not!” She scolded. “I’ll eat anything other than that dreaded root.”

He smiled, “so go on, what else was in there?”

“I can’t remember off the top of my head. We’ll find out later. The most important question is, what are we having for breakfast?”

“Would you hit me if I said leola root?”

She shook her head and tried not to laugh but the mirth broke through and she dissolved into laughter at the cheeky look on his face. “You’re bad,” she pointed. “You know that?”

They leered at each other before he broke the silence, “How about porridge with fruit?”

“Mmm,” she nodded, getting up to turn back to her enclosure. “I’ll go find those seeds.”

* * *

 The sun was attenuated, hidden behind residual clouds that hadn’t seemed to move since yesterday. For once, though, she was grateful for the cool reprieve as they worked the ground in front of the shelter.

“You seem comfortable doing this work,” Chakotay stopped the work of his shovel. “Like you done it before.”

The comment brought a smile along with a cadre of memories to the fore. “I grew up around farmers,” she said. “My parents insisted that we learn some basic gardening skills.”

Kathryn turned to him as he brushed off his hands on his dirty trousers and took a drink of water. “Did you enjoy it?”

“No,” Kathryn gave him a look and a laugh. “I hated it. Who wanted to be mucking around in the mud when you could be studying quantum mechanics?” She finished with a chuckle. “But I find it very satisfying now… planting the seeds, hopefully watching them grow.”

“They’ll grow,” he soothed, passing her the bottle.

“You know, my sister, Phoebe, she loved this kind of thing. She’d be in her element here.”

“Oh?” He sank further back into the soft ground and waited for her to tell him a story. “Tell me about her.”

“Phoebe?” Kathryn trailed a solemn finger through the exposed dirt as she thought on the young woman who was so far away. “She’s everything I’m not, I guess. Funny,” She counted on one hand. “Creative, outgoing, easy to laugh…”

He stopped her, torn by the melancholy that marred her delicate features. “You’re all those things, too, Kathryn.”

Her eyes met his sadly, “I’ll never see her again. And the last time I saw her…”

She trailed off so he filled the silence. “The last time I saw my sister I told her I never wanted to come home again. I told her to stop bothering me, stop contacting me, because I knew it was always going to be a plea to come home. And those were the last words that I ever spoke to her. After the conflict started,” Chakotay took a deep breath. “Well I don’t know if she’s alive, or if she died on Dorvan. Her name wasn’t among the casualties like my parents, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t…”

His sadness tore at her and carried her legs to his side as she knelt beside him, “Oh, Chakotay,” Kathryn whispered his name in comfort as her fingers tangled with his. “I didn’t know.”

“Because I never told you,” Brown eyes met blue. “And it doesn’t matter now. I’ll just believe that she made it out alive, that she’s safe. Would it be too much to hope that she’s happy?” The brown eyes were hesitant, nervous, as though he were asking a question to which the answer was ominously foreknown.

“No,” Kathryn shook her head and sat down fully beside him. “It’s not. I hope for that too – about my own sister.”

“You said she was an artist.”

“Yes,” Kathryn gave a wistful smile and settled into the soft grass next to him, their hands still joined. “She made beautiful paintings, sculptures… anything and everything…! She seemed to be good at whatever she chose to do.”

“Like you,” Chakotay nudged her shoulder and watched as she blushed and hid her face from the compliment.

“No,” The answer was whispered. “Not like me.”

“Kathryn,” her squeezed her hand at the melancholy murmur.

“No, Chakotay,” She met his eyes with a steely adamanance painting her face as she moved to pull away. “I’m not. If I was, I would never have gotten us into this situation.” Her eyes scanned the loneliness around them. “Here on this planet, our crew far away, stranded here in this godforsaken quadrant with years of travel ahead of them! It’s laughable!”

“Sometimes things just happen, Kathryn,” Chakotay breathed, pulling her back to him. “You did the best you could, but sometimes…”

“What?” She challenged.

He untangled their fingers to use his hands to indistinctly grapple with the air in front of him while he chose his words. His breath came out in a whoosh, “do you believe in fate, Kathryn?”

“No,” Her answer was automatic and unconsidered.

A lonely dimple came out of hiding on his amber cheeks, “Well,” he paused. “I do. I have to believe that there’s something more for us here. That there is some good that will come out of this.”

“What if there isn’t?” She sighed and took another look around them. “What if… I feel like everything I’ve done before this is a waste. I thought I was destined for more than this; more than a life of anonymity, away from my command and everything I worked so hard for!”

“I can understand that,” He tugged at his earlobe. “But just because you aren’t in command doesn’t your life is meaningless.”

“I know,” She exhaled a long breathed answer. “But, all I ever wanted from when I was a little girl was that life,” her fingers pointed to the sky and her eyes followed before the blinding sun started to show from behind the clouds. “Like the one I saw my father live. I wanted what he had. I wanted the happiness that he had, and the respect that came with it. Didn’t you want that, too, Chakotay? Didn’t you want more than this?”  


Drawing his legs into his chest, he wrapped his arms around his knees and leaned back in careful contemplation. “Yes,” He finally answered. “But for different reasons. Starfleet represented the opposite against what I saw my whole life and it was something that I clung to because it made me different and set me apart from my father and everything that he represented, but…” Chakotay’s breath left him in a rush before he filled his lungs again to finish his response. “After a while, when I lost everything, it didn’t seem to matter anymore.”

Kathryn’s fingers tangled in the soft grass under them. “It still matters to me, Chakotay.”

“I know,” he gave her an understanding nod. “And I’m sorry for this, Kathryn. If it hadn’t been for me, you would never have been in the Badlands.”

“It’s not your fault,” she shook her head. “It was my decision to destroy the array.”

“We’re playing that game.”

“Which game?” She laughed.

“The blame game.”

“Oh,” The tension left the air between them and was replaced by fondness. “You’re right.”

“We’ll both take the blame,” he chuckled lightly. “How’s that? Now we’re even.”

“Sounds good,” Her bright smile didn’t let. “Chakotay?”

“Mmm,” He leaned his head back with eyes closed to enjoy the sunlight.

“There’s one thing I’m not sorry for.”

Shielding his eyes with his hand, he turned his head to regard her. “Oh? What’s that?”

“I’m not sorry that I met you.”

Her words warmed him and sent frissons of something down to his toes as he took her hand again and squeezed her fingers, “Me neither, Kathryn. I’ll never be sorry for that.”

Kathryn gave a nod and lay back against the fragrant green grass, “So this is our life now.”

“Yes,” He whispered. “That it is.”


	9. Chapter 9

He was getting more used to it: not only associating coffee with a morning beverage. Their house was beginning to smell like a coffee house night and day. 

Kathryn walked around him; every so often stopping behind his chair to look at the plans he was drawing up. The first few times, he thought it endearing…. Until she kept doing it; breathing down his back, sighing when he made certain changes and additions to the schematic on the screen. 

“Kathryn,” He quenched the desire to roll his eyes and curl his fingers into a fist. “Is there something wrong?” 

“No,” she blew on her coffee and took a loud sip. “Nothing.” 

“Really?” He gave up and turned around to her, standing over him. “Because you’re lingering.” 

“Lingering?” She actually looked wounded with her big eyes and messy hair. “Me?” 

“Yes, you,” he smiled and gestured to her. “Come on, out with it.” 

“Well,” She leered and sat down next to him, so close that their thighs were brushing as they nearly breathed the same air. “Now that you mention it, I think we need more living space than that. The bathroom is too small, as well.” 

“Ah,” He nodded and readjusted the parameters on the console. “Better?” 

“Mmm,” She took another loud swallow of the acrid coffee. 

“How do you sleep after that?” 

“This?” She held up the mug and looked at it before shrugging. “I guess after a while it starts to lose its desired effect. I mostly just drink it because I like the taste.”

“Uh huh,” He had stopped paying attention and had turned his eyes back to the screen. “So far we have two bedrooms, a kitchen, a work room for the both of us, and a bathroom. What else?” 

“That about covers it. The rest of the furniture they gave us is still out in the stasis containers and with a bigger living space, it’ll fit quite nicely.” 

“Mm,” He nodded once before a tired yawn escaped. “I’d love a bigger bed…” 

“So would I,” She sighed and miserably looked towards her small enclosure. “I miss my bed on Voyager.” 

“I was just thinking the same thing.” 

They laughed together before she realised the hour, “It’s nearly one in the morning.” 

“It feels it,” he yawned again and moved to save the work they’d done on the plans. “I’ll see you in the morning, Kathryn.” 

“I’ll help you as much as I can with the building,” his yawn was contagious. “But I’m not sure how much help I’ll be.” 

“We’ll figure it out,” He said before he leaned down absently to kiss her cheek. He was too late to catch himself in recognition of his gaffe, but the action had been so natural that he could hardly stop himself. 

Her breath caught at the feeling of his lips on her skin. The gesture felt expected, nearly ordinary, but exquisite nevertheless. “Um,” He pulled back, blushing and abashed, like a little boy who’d done something naughty. “I’m-“ 

“Goodnight, Chakotay,” her palm quickly cupped his cheek and she repeated the gesture before turning her back and retreating behind the enclave. “I’ll see you in the morning.” 

His fingers touched the space that her lips had briefly occupied and his smile widened as he pulled back the meagre sheets on the cramped, little mattress. “Goodnight, Kathryn.”


	10. Chapter 10

He dreamt of her that night - of her smiling at him, with her hair in messy disarray around her face and her cheeks flushed with the exertion of endless laughter. 

It wasn’t the first time Chakotay dreamt of her, but it was the first time that the dream had represented something of her that was so palpable. A few times on the ship, he used to close his eyes and see her like this. 

Once it was in a vision quest, but even then it had been so different; then he hadn’t yet seen this side of her. And so like a phantom, she had been only an imitation. 

This time, though, she was real. 

In the silence of sleep, he took time to notice the little things about her; the throatiness of her laugh, the blue of her eyes, the way her green dress showed off the copper in her hair… 

“Chakotay,” She said his name softly and he beamed. She could say his name forever and it would still be newly sweet and indulgent to his ears. “Chakotay,” she said it again the spectre in from of him started to fade away, giving way to something infinitely more palpable. “Chakotay,” he heard it again and opened his eyes to find her looking down at him. 

“Kathryn.” 

“You kept saying my name,” She blushed. “I thought you were having a nightmare.” 

“No,” He looked down and sat up in the bed, hoping she wouldn’t notice what was obvious. “What time is it?” 

“Nine,” she smiled crookedly. “We’re becoming lay-abouts.” 

He chuckled, “To say the least. I don’t think I even slept this late on weekends at the Academy.” 

“Neither did I,” She replied, turning away with a deep rouge still on her cheeks. “Well, uh, I’ll leave you to get dressed.” 

“I was thinking,” He called out into the kitchen. “I’ll start milling the wood today!” 

“We have an extra phaser in the shuttle,” She recalled. “I can help.” 

“That’s fine!” He grinned at the mental image of her cutting wood. “We can start after breakfast.” 

“You’re smiling because you think I can’t do it,” She challenged with her hands firmly on her hips at seeing that smile and knowing instantly the sentiment behind it. 

His eyes widened and instantly his hands came out before him, “I didn’t say anything!” 

“You didn’t have to,” She squinted her suspicion and pointed a spoon at him for emphasis. 

“Kathryn,” He rolled his eyes. “I don’t think there’s anything you can’t do.”


	11. Chapter 11

She’d spent an hour agonising over the pants while she stood in front of the replicator. “I feel bad,” Kathryn said. “It’s wasteful to be spending this much energy on a pair of trousers.” 

“It’s not,” He requisitioned the item over her fuss and presented it to her. “Think of it as an investment.” 

She nodded and thanked him before hurrying behind the console to slip them on. “I haven’t worn jeans since I was about eleven.” 

“No?” He passed before turning to regard her girlishly giddy about a new item of clothing. 

“They feel nice,” Kathryn smoothed her hands up and down the giving fabric. 

“They look nice,” He winked, making her blush. “Come on, let’s see how good you are with that phaser.” 

“Better than you, I bet,” She teased with a nudge to his shoulder. 

“Have you always been this competitive?” He earned another shove. 

“Hopelessly. Phoebe couldn’t stand me when we were younger; she refused to play with me!” 

He laughed, sharing in her fond memories while he pictured a spirited young Kathryn Janeway with freckled cheeks and smooth, long golden hair practically bullying her little sister into just one more game. 

“You’re laughing,” She wagged her finger at him. “But it’s the truth!” 

“I can believe it. Have you seen the garden?” He pointed towards the impressive array of green jutting out from the raw dirt. “I’m surprised at how quickly they’re growing.” 

“It’s a good sign,” Kathryn stooped to proudly examine the fresh leaves peeking out from the earth. “We’ll have a readily available food source in a few weeks. I suppose in retrospect I shouldn’t have grumbled at my parents for all those gardening lessons, huh?” She looked up at him to find an approving smile before she took the hand he offered and stood back up to full height. “Well,” her lips twisted a smile. “We should get to work.” 

His face lit up in the sun, bright as the light reflected off his teeth, “Yes,” he kept his hold on her hand and nodded towards the forest edge on the far side of the shelter near to where they kept the shuttle. “I was looking the other day and the trees here look a little thicker than they do elsewhere. This’ll be a good place to start.” 

She nodded once, tightening her hold on his hand before letting go. “I’ve never done this before,” Kathryn said, walking around the trees with her phaser primed. 

He laughed once with an amused shake of his head and followed her, “Well…”


	12. Chapter 12

The work was hard, she thought, and the decision to replicate jeans rather than shorts was a poor one. 

The sweat dripped down her nose and back as she gave a winded breath before she stepped back from the workspace to survey what they’d done.  Ten trees altogether would give them the basic outlay of the house.  They’d planned to build it on a rise of stone, but it was enough for now having to think about the wood, not where they would find the rest of the materials.   

Chakotay caught her flushed features before she let herself fall down onto ground, away from the sun.  “Are you all right?”

“Fine,” She drew the word out and took a drink of lukewarm water from their shared canteen.  “Just tired.  I’m not used to work like this…!”  

He gave a small smile and nodded, following to where she was sitting.  She handed him the flask with an appraising look, “You’re _drenched!”_

“No more than you are,” he winked before taking a drink and let the water dribble down his chin and onto his shirt. “We’ll have to replicate more appropriate clothing for tomorrow.” 

“Mm,” she mused.  “I was thinking the same thing, but it seems so wasteful.” 

“I know, but we’re going to need the clothing anyway. Neither one of us had enough on board Voyager, and we didn’t come prepared for a situation like this.”

Kathryn quirked a crooked smile, “I thought I was going on a two week mission… practically _all_ I brought was my uniform!  I thought that I’d be in Indiana at the end of the two weeks.  It would have been autumn and I wouldn’t have needed a pair of shorts…”

“I can imagine,” He tried for a smile, but it ended in a frown before he looked away, unwilling to voice his own anecdote.  

“You had less than I did, though,” she looked at his side profile and remembered the small duffel he’d had B’Elanna beam down to the planet when they first arrived.  “You must’ve-“   

“Let’s not… talk about it, Kathryn,” Abruptly, he screwed the top back on the bottle and stood again, leaving her confusedly analysing what she could have said that had upset him.  “We should get back to work, anyways.  It’s, uh, getting late.  You know, I was thinking that we’ll have to use a tractor beam,” he said, changing the subject.  “We’re only two people, and we won’t be able to lift these.  Do you think we’d be able to programme it to layer precisely?" 

Kathryn walked around him tentatively and chose her words.  “I think so. We’ve done fine work with a tractor beam before.” 

“Not this fine, though.  It would have to be precise - down to the millimetre.”

She sighed, watching blessedly as the sun disappeared behind the afternoon clouds. “Well, we’ll make it work…”   

“I’m sorry,” He said finally, taking a hesitant step towards her.  “I didn’t mean to be rude, I just-” 

“It’s all right, Chakotay.”  

“No,” He laid a gentle hand on her arm and moved in front of her so she couldn’t ignore him.  “It’s not, and I’m sorry.” 

Kathryn’s crooked smile came out of hiding when she was confronted with the frank and earnest sincerity that she had come to associate with him.  “It’s all right. I’m the one who should be sorry. Obviously something I said offended you, and I didn’t mean to do that.” 

“No,” he took a long breath, looking down at their feet before back at her.  “I just…”

“You don’t have to explain,” She said sincerely. “You don’t-“ 

“I think I knew in my heart,” He kept on, ignoring her because he knew he wouldn’t be able to hide from her. “I think _everyone_ knew, that we weren’t going to make it home. Our plan was to draw Gul Evek into the Badlands and hopefully gain an advantage, but the Val Jean was old and falling apart by the seams.  Even if we had been successful in dealing a blow to Gul’s ship, we never would have made it out of the Badlands. It hadn’t started out like one, but I think we all knew towards the end that it was a suicide mission.  So…” his brown eyes bore into her blue ones.  “I didn’t pack, Kathryn.  What would have been the point?” 

Kathryn hadn’t realised that tears were falling down her cheeks until she felt his fingers there, sliding the slick sadness away from her skin.  “I’m so sorry.”

 _“Why…”_ he whispered.  “Are you sorry? You saved our lives.” 

Abruptly, her eyes opened wide at the realisation that was beginning to dawn on her.  The smile on his face mirrored a crooked one of hers as he trailed his fingers gently down her cheek. 

Drenched in tenderness, she wanted to whisper that for once she was grateful that they were here, and that a life without him wouldn’t be one.  She wanted to tell him she was sorry, but also that she wasn’t…

Kathryn wanted to tell him so many things, but all the words she seemed to conjure were so pitiably derisory. An abrupt breath filled her lungs and jolted her body to move, starting with her fingers that searched for his. A small step closed the distance between them as their hands tangled and she felt the warmth roll off his body and smelled the sweet scent of sweat that bled off him in waves.

His eyes searched hers, and she found the brown tinged dually with fear and undeniable lust.  Kathryn wanted to kiss him so badly that it was an ache. From the first moment she’d met him, she had wanted to do so with such a hunger that she surprised herself.

It was more than just that, though. It was _more_ than lust… 

It was _him._

It was _everything_ about him.   

Her breath mingled with his, fragrant, like the fruit they’d had all those hours ago, and so sweet that she could anticipate the taste of his saliva. 

 _“Kathryn,_ ” He said her name once but she didn’t answer as her eyes drifted shut. Until he said it again, louder this time, “Kathryn, I don't...” And in a moment, she lost the scent of him, and his balminess was replaced with a breeze that cut through the forest. “I’m sorry,” He looked down, almost embarrassed as he cleared his throat.  “I-“ 

 _“Oh!”_ A hand came up to hide her mouth and she felt a pit settle like a leaden weight in her stomach while her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Chakotay, I-“

“No,” He stepped back towards her but she evaded him. “Kathryn, please-“

“It’s all right,” She tried lamely for a smile but couldn’t hurt the misplaced pain and humiliation that marred her features. “I was just, uh, I’m sorry,” was her final concession. “Let’s just get back to work.” 

“ _Kathryn-"_

Kathryn cleared her throat, unable to hide the hurt that laced her syllables, and picked up the phaser again. “Let’s just… get back to work.”

 


	13. Chapter 13

His actions and words had built a wall between them. Invisible so it was, its palpation was like a steel fortress – impenetrable and cold as they worked until the sun disappeared and the night’s stars took their dominion over the sky.

A lonely, silent awkwardness was the only entity between them until he stopped his actions and relinquished the tools in his hand to the belt around his waist. Kathryn kept working, milling down the logs and measuring them to a precision. A quick study, her work in this was meticulous, like everything else she did.

Her clothing was wetted with exertion and a layer of dirt and grime coated her face and exposed skin. Chakotay looked down at himself and the same was true, and for a moment, he could think of nothing better than running down to the river, throwing off all of his clothes, and letting the cool water wash away the dirt and soreness.

“Kathryn,” His soft voice broke the silence, but she ignored him. “Kathryn.” Chakotay drew nearer to her and used his hands to stop her hurried movements. “We’ve done enough for the day. Let’s go home.”

Slowly, she gave a reluctant nod and replaced the phaser in the holster at her waist. She was still mortified – too embarrassed to speak or to look at him.

What had she been thinking?

She had been kicking herself about what had happened. It was inappropriate, she kept telling herself. More than that, though, and more to the point – Chakotay had turned her down. The only man on the planet! Kathryn gave an internal groan – it was excruciating.

“We’ve done enough work for today,” He breathed in the cool night air, only now realising how chilled he was. “Tomorrow I was thinking we could take the shuttle over to the mountains and see what stone we can use for the foundation.”

Kathryn listened, but said nothing in return as they walked towards the small shelter. “It won’t be too hard, I don’t think…” he kept on. “Maybe we can use the tractor beam or the transporters….” He stopped and pulled at her hand to halt her movement. “Kathryn, look at me. Please. I’m sorry, I-”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Kathryn squared her shoulders and looked him squarely in the eyes. “I… misunderstood-“

“You didn’t,” He forced out before she could say anything more, and he watched the confusion play out over her face in the dim light emanating from their home. “You didn’t misunderstand,” Chakotay rubbed his eyes in frustration. “Dammit, I _want_ to kiss you, Kathryn! So, _so,_  badly that it aches. I’ve wanted to kiss you for nearly every second of every day for the past two years, but I don’t want it to be like that. Not when you’re vulnerable and feel sorry for me. That’s not how I want to start this.” He motioned in the air between them. “Can you understand that?”

Eyes wide, she let out a long breath.

“I wasn’t pushing you away… well,” he gave a weak smile. “I was, but we have our whole lives here, and I want to savour this with you.”

“Oh.” A giddy, girlish blush broke out over her cheeks while a warmth spread through every cell in her body as she breathed the shakily short response. For a moment, she hoped that the light coming from the shelter was dull enough to hide the deep rouge. “I thought-”

"I know what you thought," He tugged at her hand and drew an even bigger leer.  "And I'm sorry."

"Okay," she felt foolish and not a little more embarrassed as she tried in vain to scrub away the blush from her cheeks.  

Four deep dimples came out of hiding. “Okay?”

“Yes,” She nodded once and took his hand, as she was so inclined to do. “Okay.”

“Okay,” He drew a cleaning breath and let it out. “Well…”

Kathryn rolled her eyes and a smile as big as his broke out over her cheeks. “Come on, Commander. I’ll let you take the shower first and then we can start planning where we’re going to take the shuttle to find the rock.”

“Okay,” He said again, turning back to continue his way back to the cabin. "Yes, okay..." 

Her soft, throaty laughter echoed out into the stillness of the night. “ _Are you going to say anything else for the rest of the night?”_


	14. Chapter 14

“It feels good to be clean,” Kathryn sighed as she stepped out of the small bathroom in her nightclothes. 

 

“I thought about going down to the river,” He said, remembering his earlier machination.  “It would be nice to have an actual water shower, for a change.” 

 

“That requires plumbing,” She said obviously, sitting down beside him to eat the dinner he’d laid out.  “We’ll have to replicate the piping…"

 

“I know,” He let out a long breath and took his eyes away from the console.  “We’ll use the shuttle’s replicator.” 

 

"I do miss a good water shower, though," Kathryn sighed and rubbed her eyes tiredly and nodded towards the console.  “What’ve you found?” 

 

“A mineral similar to granite,” he snuffled and pointed to the range on the screen.  “In the hills behind us.  We’ll take the shuttle in the morning and get the lay of the land.”

 

“If we use the tractor beam we’ll only have to go once, but mining it will be a different story.” 

 

“We can use a phaser on the rock to cut pieces and use the tractor beam to bring them back,” he thought aloud and rested his cheek on his hand.  “Arranging it is going to be another headache.” 

 

A tired silence lapsed between them before Kathryn broke it with a small laugh.  “Did you see the monkey watching us today?” 

 

“No,” He chuckled, trying to think back.  “Where was he?” 

 

“In the trees,” She smiled.  “I think he was cross with us for cutting them down.” 

 

“Most likely,” he said.  “I think that monkey’s taken to you.” 

 

“I think he’s just curious,” she cogitated while unproductively rubbing the tired from her eyes.  “As curious about us as we are of him.”

 

“I think…” She could see that mischief in his eyes.  “That you just want a pet.” 

 

Kathryn took a deep breath and let it out slowly as memories of Molly clouded her conscience.  “I do miss my dog,” her answer was forlorn.  “Molly.  She was... she was my friend,” she blew a laugh.  “That sounds silly.” 

 

“No,” Chakotay shook his head.  “It doesn’t.” 

 

“Did you have pets, Chakotay?” 

 

“No,” He said.  “I don’t remember that anyone did when I was growing up.  The first time I saw a dog or a cat in anything other than a picture or a vision quest was when I was fifteen!” 

 

“You’re serious!” She laughed.  “And what did you think?” 

 

“Well,” He hid his smile.  “Then of course I wanted one.” 

 

“If we were back on Earth, I’d give you one of Molly’s puppies.” 

 

“I wouldn’t know the first thing to do with it!” He laughed.  

 

“I’d tell you,” Kathryn said pointedly.  “And one day, after you got used to how much work it would be, you’d thank me.” 

 

“What if we just kept one of Molly’s puppies together?” He smiled a cheeky, boyish grin.  “That way, Molly would have a companion and you could just _show_ me.”

 

The thought sent another blush to her freckled cheeks until she remembered with whom she had left her dog.  “ _I’m still engaged_ ,” She whispered suddenly.  “I’m still engaged, Chakotay.”

 

“To Mark.” 

 

“Yes,” She looked down at her clasped hands, on whose fingers a ring no longer sat.  “I’m engaged to Mark.”   Kathryn felt his eyes on her.  “What does it say about me, that I’d forgotten?” 

 

He shook his head, not know what to say other than what he thought.  “It makes you human.  Kathryn we’ve been missing for _two years.”_

“I told him not to wait for me,” She remembered.  “I made him promise that if anything ever happened to me, he would take care of Molly and move on.  I didn’t want him to pine for my memory or be unhappy.  Not that he would have pined,” She laughed a nervous, self-effacing laugh.  “Mark and I didn’t have that kind of relationship.” 

 

_“Mark,” Kathryn emerged from the bathroom with her long hair wrapped in a towel. “Mark?”_

_“Kath,” He looked up from the padd on his lap.  “Yes?”_

_“I was thinking,” She took a tentative seat on the bed.  “We should talk before tomorrow."_

 

_"Talk?" Her companion scrunched up his face.  "About what?"_

 

_Kathryn blew out a breath, "I think we’ve both always known that being in Starfleet entails a certain amount of risk.”_

_“I know, Kath,” Mark looked at her unimaginatively, as though she’d distracted him from something vital. “But nothing’s going to happen.  It’s a two week mission.  You said it yourself – it’s routine.”_

_“Still,” Kathryn pleaded, taking his hand.  “I think we should talk about it in case it’s not.”_

_“Okay,” Reluctantly he put the padd down and gave her his full attention._

_“If something happens-”_

_“Which it won’t.”_

_“If it does, I want you to give my things to my mother.  There’s a letter for her and one for Phoebe in the top drawer of my dresser.  And take care of Molly ,please.”_

_“All right,” he smirked and kissed her cheek before taking back the padd.  “But it’ll be fine, Kath.  And when you get back, we’ll set a date.”_

_“A date,” she breathed a sigh, tying her pink silk robe tighter over the revealing neglige.  “Yes, of course. We’ll set a date.”_

 

“He was practical,” She remembered the night they’d sat down before she left for the Badlands and made arrangements.  “Yes, Mark would have been practical.” 

 

A pit settled in her companion’s stomach as she got up abruptly.  “Kathryn, we don’t have to-”

 

“It’s getting late,” She let a smile encase her frown.  “I should go to bed, Chakotay. It’s been a long day.” 

 

He looked to her and then to the seat she’d vacated.  “You haven’t finished your dinner.” 

 

“It’s all right,” Kathryn said.  “I’m not that hungry anymore.  Goodnight, Chakotay.”   


	15. Chapter 15

He woke before her the next morning and headed out to the shuttle, familiarising himself with the controls as he manipulated the sensors.  Tired, he took another long dreg of coffee and opened his eyes wider.  

She cried last night, and muffled her sobs into her pillow.  He knew she was trying to not to be conspicuous, but his heart broke with every ragged breath. He wanted to go to her, and not as a man who was interested, but as a friend with a shoulder to cry on.

He didn’t though, and now in the light of morning he realised that maybe he should have.  Dually, though, he thought that she was afforded a modicum of privacy.  It wasn’t fair that she shouldn’t be allowed to grieve for the man she loved in private, without him listening in; it wasn’t fair that she had been taken from him... 

 _If only **he** hadn’t drawn her from him, from that life that she so loved… _  

Her sobs settled early in the morning and her ragged breath evened out along a steady pace.  He tiptoed around the shelter this morning and left as soon as he possibly could to avoid waking her.  

Out of the front of the shuttle, Chakotay looked towards the mountains, jagged and covered with trees.  He was hopeful, though, that they would get what they needed. This would be the first time they would see more of the planet – more than the small radius around their accommodation.

The data on the sensors distracted his attention as she stepped into the bay, “Good morning.”  Her voice was fresh and clear. 

He smiled at the sound of her voice and looked up to greet her, instantly noticing the expanse of leg revealed by the shorts. “Good morning, Kathryn.”

“I’m sorry about last night,” She sat down in the seat opposite him, noticing the deep dark circles under his eyes. “I kept you up.”

“Don’t apologise,” he said softly. “Are you ready to get going?”

“Mmhm,” She breathed softly and pressed the sequence to lock the shuttle doors. “I’m excited to see more of the planet. I can’t believe we haven’t taken the shuttle out until now.  It’s been almost eleven weeks!”

“I thought the same,” he glanced over at her. “But we’ve been busy with other things.”

“And now we’re building a house,” Kathryn sighed. “Our own house.”

“Yes,” He said.  “Are you ready?” 

She felt the thrusters kick up under her feet and for the first time in a while she felt excited and exhilarated. “I see that smile,” Chakotay said. “You want to fly this time?" 

“Yes,” she gave him a smiled look. “I don’t trust you with our only shuttle.” 

“Ouch,” he grinned. 

“I’m only kidding.” 

“It’s just as well,” he ran manipulated the console and logged their flight plan before checking the phaser banks and tractor beam.  “I don’t have the best luck with shuttles…”  

She took a deep breath and filled her lungs while watching the panorama before them, “It’s beautiful here.  I forget that sometimes.” 

“I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you say something positive about this place.” 

Her face lit at his remark and she met his eyes before he pointed back to the viewscreen.  “There.  Those ranges.”

“That’s not far at all.”

“I figure it’ll be less of a power drain if we only have to porter the rock from a slight distance.” 

“Good thinking.” Kathryn got up and headed for the replicator.  “The smell of your coffee is making me want some.  Fancy a refill?” 

* * *

 

They worked all day, measuring the cutting the pieces precisely until they had enough.   “Now the moment of truth,” Chakotay breathed a sigh and mentally crossed his fingers while passing a prayer to his Spirits.  “Will we be able to tractor it.” 

“I think so,” Kathryn’s fingers danced across the console.  “Let’s give it -- a try.”

They breathed a tandem sigh of relief when the rocks they’d quarried lifted off the ground with a facile simplicity. “I didn’t think it would be that easy,” he said, only half holding his breath until they arrived back at the clearing and set down the load. 

“Neither did I,” She winked, and let down the thrusters and just as quickly opened the hatch.  “Tomorrow we can try laying the logs,” long legs carried her outside to the fresh air.  _“Right now I’m starving!”_       

Outside the shuttle, he assayed their collective work and a satisfied grin stretched his lips.  “It seems real now,” he said. “Our own home.”

“Yes,” She said, sharing his pride before tugging his arm.  “We can do more after dinner. Come on.” 

“You’re impatient,” He chided, laughing.

Kathryn rolled her eyes and opened the door to the shelter. “I’m _hungry_.”

 “What’ll we have then?” His eyes sadly roamed the near-empty stasis container. “We don’t have much.”

“I’ll finish what I didn’t eat last night, I suppose.” The mention of the night before brought its own special silence as she poured them some of the water she had filtered from the river. 

“We don’t have to talk about it,” he said finally, before choking out his next few words.  “About any of it.  We’ll just forget about what happened, if that’s what you want.” 

Her eyes gave him a long, pleading look as he sat down slowly beside her and laid down the half-eaten sandwiches from the previous evening.  “What do you _want_ to do?”

Her lips twisted a wry smile and she looked up at the ceiling as though something humorous had caught her fancy. “We’re the only two people on a planet, Chakotay.  We’re going to spend the _rest of our lives_ here alone on this goddamn planet!” 

He waited and let her rail until she calmed herself. “The life I left behind was half finished – all of it; my relationship with Mark, my command… I just want to finish _something_ , Chakotay.” 

He watched her look at him; the way her eyes searched his, how her pupils dilated, the way she licked her lips. Peripherally, he watched her hand come up before he felt the delicate tips of her fingers on the skin of his forehead. “Is that all you want?”  

She swallowed audibly and her breath came in tiny puffs, her face close to his that he could feel the small currents she was making on his skin. “ _No.”_  

And so, with little to no thought, only instinct, he kissed her and stole the breath from her lungs.  This time, there was no hesitation between them, and her lips opened easily under his without askance. 

He tasted sweet, like the sugar and milk he’d had in his coffee.  The thought made her giggle against his lips, breaking the seal before he made it again.

Gentle hands cupped her face while her arms wove around his neck.  Being with his like this, _kissing him,_ felt _just_ like she thought it would, and the texture of his lips was like she’d imagined from the first day she’d met him and taken notice of them.  Soft and full, she never wanted to stop pressing her mouth against his – never wanted to stop tasting him.

He ran out of breath too quickly and pulled away while still keeping her close to him, sharing her air. He was boyishly unable to hide the smile that dented on his cheeks, nor was she able to hide her own joy. “Well, uh…” Chakotay made a giddy nervous laugh, one that he’d never made before, that radiated a sense of contentment and peace. 

 _“Shh,”_ She giggled back and kissed lips once again, quickly this time, and turned to the food in front of her.  “Just be here with me.”


	16. Chapter 16

Kathryn laid back against the aromatic grass and stretched out in the hot sunshine, enjoying the way it tingled her skin after a long day in the shuttle.  The smell of freshly cut wood hung piquantly in the air, and it reminded her that there was still work to be done. 

“You know…” She felt the chortled timbres in his voice as he depressed the space next to her.  “We’re not going to get any work done if we keep doing this?” 

“Keep on what?” Kathryn’s voice was innocent. “We’re not doing anything…”

 _“Exactly_ ,” his fingers tickled her side and made her squirm.  

 _“Chakotay!”_ She pushed his fingers away and lay for a while in the contented silence that a day to themselves always brought. “You know this was always the best part of those dreaded camping trips my parents used to take us on.”

“What was?” 

“This,” She turned in closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder.  “Enjoying the sun when there was nothing else to be done.” 

“There _is_ something else to be done,” he teased, pointing backward to the mound of logs they’d tractored to the site. 

She thumped her head once on his shoulder in mock scolding.  “Will you stop?" 

“What ever happened to work-a-day Janeway?”

Her alto sang with amusement. “Did you just make that up?” 

“Maybe…”  

She rolled her eyes and snuggled closer to his side. “I used to hate those summer camping trips, but now I miss them. I miss being with my family when we were all together.” 

“Isn’t that the way it always goes?” He remembered times in his own life- times with his father when they were walking through rainforests or deserts – times when he resented the very air he breathed, but now would give anything to do again.  “I remember times when I was with my father, and all I wanted was to get away from him and his ideas of tradition.  But now…” the breath left his lungs in a forlorn rush.  “I wish I had those times to do over.” 

“Tell me about him, about Kolopak.” 

"He was…” Chakotay conjured his best-loved image of his father. “There was always a smile on his face, and I could always hear him telling some _silly_ story,” he laughed at the recollection.  “And he was _kind_ , it didn’t matter who it was, he just _loved_ unconditionally.” 

Kathryn tangled her fingers in his soft cotton shirt and held him. “He sounds like you.”

“He was _better_ than me,” He contradicted.  “I wasn’t very good to him, and now I have to live with that, and the fact that I never said that I was sorry for what I did.” 

“You gave up your life to protect what he gave his for, Chakotay.  That means something, and he would be proud of you.  He _was_ proud of you.”

His fingers tangled in the soft messiness of her ponytail.  “I wish I could go back and do things over with him; that I listened more to the things that he told me and tried to teach me.”  

“You’ll tear yourself up thinking that way,” Kathryn remembered her own struggle after her father died. “When my father died, I thought that my life was over.  I’d lie in my bed for days without eating.  Sometimes I wouldn’t sleep, I’d just lie there and wished that I’d died along with him,” His grasp on her tightened at the words that she spoke, as though he was baying the thought of her being anywhere but here with him. “Phoebe yanked me out of bed one day, and I was a mess, I remember!  And she told me I couldn’t do it anymore, that I had to live in the present for her and my mother.” 

“I’m sorry, Kathryn,” he kissed her hair and curled closer to her until there was no space between them.  

“I still miss him,” she told him. “I still think about him every day. I’ll ask his advice on things in my head, almost like I’m praying to him.”  

“I do that, too.” 

“We’re a pair then,” She kissed the underside of his jaw before she pushed him down and used his chest as a springboard to get up.

 _“Ouch!”_ He laughed and took her proffered hand.

She smiled and pulled him along back to the shuttle. “The day will get away from us if we’re not careful.  How long do you think it’ll take us to finish?” 

“Not long,” the inside of the shuttle felt cold as he took his seat at the helm.  “I think it’ll take us the longest to stack the wood and make the walls.”

“And then we have to worry about plumbing and electricity,” Her response was sullen as she looked miserably at him. “You’d think the mosquito could have been considerate enough to bite B’Elanna as well…” 

“That would have been handy,” he chuckled. “Though I _know_ for a fact that you’re just as good an engineer.”

The comment brought a loud guffaw. “Where did you hear that?”

“Some of the crew on the lower decks…”

“Gossiping about me, Commander?”

“Just passing by,” he said innocently. “Keeping abreast of the crew...”

Kathryn rolled her eyes and started the shuttle up again.  “Well whatever you heard, that _isn’t_ the case.”

“I know for a fact that _it is,”_ Chakotay’s long fingers tapped over the console and they started the work again.  “But I also know that if we don’t get back to work, we’ll be here all night and we won’t be able to keep on schedule.” 

“Have you always been this much of a spoil sport?” She asked, mock peevishly.

“Yes,” He said seriously.  “I didn’t have any friends at the Academy.”

“You’re kidding.” 

He turned his head and gave her a fresh-faced, dimpled smile.  “No, that was you.”

 _“Chakotay!”_ She doubled over in hilarity.  “It’s only funny because it’s true!  I _didn’t_ have any friends at the Academy. I think it was because I was _too_ competitive.”

 _“You?”_ He looked at her sideways, careful not to divert all of his attention away from the tractored log.  “I don’t believe it... We have to figure out how we’re going to do this,” Chakotay examined the work they’d already done with the stone foundation.  “We’ll have to stack the logs on each side and then use beams to hold them together.”

“One of us is going to have to do it by hand while the other is in the shuttle.” 

“What if we erected a containment field around the stacked logs while we did it?”  He wondered out loud.  “That might be a little more efficient…” 

* * *

They worked until the sun went down, making more plans and dreaming up ideas until their eyes wouldn’t stay open anymore. Clumsily, she kissed him goodnight, nearly missing his lips in her fatigue.  “Goodnight,” he offered, mouth inelegantly against hers. 

She beamed a tired grin and sauntered off, disappearing behind her partition where the bed welcomed her, day clothes and all. “I was thinking,” her words started to slur the moment her head hit the pillow. 

“Hmm?” 

“I was thinking… about the house.”

“Oh?” 

“About our bedrooms.” 

“What…” He yawned and turned towards her side of the partition where he could see her outline in the Plexiglas. “Were you thinking?”

“I was thinking we should just have one.”

A tired smile stretched his cheeks painfully. “Okay.” 

She pressed her face near to the opaque glass, her smile matching the breadth of his. “Okay?”

“Mmhm.  Goodnight, Kathryn.”

“Goodnight, Chakotay.” 


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for leaving kudos and kind comments! You're the NICEST!

_That night she dreamt about the house._

_There were echoes of laughter on its thick walls from someone she couldn’t see; it wasn’t his, and neither was it hers.  The floor under her feet felt solid, different from that of the shelter, as she walked in and out of the rooms trying to find the source of the rich amusement. The rooms looked like she imagined them, and a fresh coolness bathed the air that she breathed._

_“Chakotay?” She called his name and waited for an answer, but he didn’t reply.  So, she called again, “Chakotay, are you there?”_

_All that responded was the sound of happiness that confused her at the same time that it gave warmth and comfort.  “Where are you?”_

_She walked into the first room off her right, where she thought she heard the sound, but when she entered she found no one, only a bed with a painting over it.   She’d never seen it before, but it was beautiful – carven and sturdy.  Its lines sang of him, and the works of his hands._

_“Chakotay?” Kathryn whispered his name again as she traced the edges of the bed, whose sheets and blankets were rumpled, chaotic, and as she put her hand out to touch them she felt that they were still warm._

_She imagined loving him here, under the painting that she half recognised with the light autumn breeze tickling at their bare skin.  She imagined his body covering hers and the weight of him between her legs; the hard heat of him pressing intimately against the wetness he would inevitably find...  There was still so much newness between them, but when she saw the bed, all she wanted was to skip it and end at the part where they expressed what they felt through their flesh._

_For a moment she had forgotten about the laughter, but there it was again. It sounded like Phoebe’s when she was young, but it was still different somehow.   She called her lover’s name again, though she was sure it wasn’t him. Nothing, though, replied until she felt distinct and heavy warmth on her arm – something gently tugging her away from his place._

“Kathryn?”  He said her name again and she opened her eyes groggily. 

“Chakotay,” Kathryn looked at him glassily. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” 

“That laughter,” She yawned and sat up in her bed. “I heard laughter.”

“You were talking in your sleep,” he smiled and offered a hand, which she took and he tugged her up.  “We slept in.  It’s nearly noon.” 

“That’s becoming a habit,” She couldn’t stifle another fatigued drowse as she rubbed her eyes again.  “Oh, I need coffee.”

“We never even took off our clothes last night,” He laughingly pointedly between the two of them still in their shorts and t-shirts as he walked over to the console on the far wall. “You said you dreamt of someone laughing?” 

“Mmm,” Her legs carried her outside to the warm summer’s morning and she looked at the skeleton of a home they’d built over the last week.  A towering stack of logs stood at the forest edge, and for a second she imagined them all coming together to make that home that she loved so much for those few moments that she’d revelled in it. “I don’t know who it was.” 

“Here." 

An aromatic mug of hot coffee found its way into her hands.  She took a loud, relieved sip and murmured her thanks while still keeping her eyes on the house. “I dreamt of it.”

His voice was soft and dreamy, “What about it did you dream of?”   

“Of our rooms,” She whispered. “And what they would look like.”

A warm arm fitted its way around her waist and she leaned against him, breathed him in – enjoyed the slow inevitability of them. For a long time, subliminally at first, she had wanted this with him - maybe because it appealed to her sense of the romantic… like those silly holoprogrammes she used to run.

It hadn’t been this way with Mark, not even with Justin.  Both of those romances had been practical and goal- oriented.  There was a gain to each of them and a certain logic that followed their course.

Justin was meticulous and precise, like her. And everything that he did had a specific purpose, and she was no exception to that.  In retrospect, she discerned tat they never would have worked, at least not with her being who she was _now_. _And Mark_ … Mark was a good man who deserved more than the spilt love that she’d offered him and been presented with in return.

She felt his lips at her hair and smiled. “I was thinking about going down to the river before we got started.  Maybe… after we’re done with the house, we can build a boat and explore.” 

“We could go camping,” She grinned up at him. 

“That we would.  We couldn’t bring the bathtub, though.” 

“Well that’s all right,” she snickered. “I’ll have the river!" 

Chakotay shared her lighthearted enchantment pushed himself off the side of the house.  “So, how ‘bout it, Captain?” 

She gave a shrug set down her coffee cup on the ledge before he was he tugging on her hand and leading her down the short trail they’d made to the river.  “Wait, we’re going _now?!”_  

“Why not?” 

“Well,” She quickened her pace to keep up with him. “We still have work to do!”

“We can do it later!” He said, pulling her faster. 

_“Chakotay!”_

“Just a quick swim!” Dimpled cheeks called back. “It’ll feel good! I promise!”

His rich laughter echoed across the blue crystal water just as he began throwing off his shorts and top.  Kathryn blushed at the sight of his body; beautifully scored golden angles as the sun glinted off of it.  

She had always been aware of him and the virile masculinity he exuded, but never had she seen him like this. Her face must’ve blazoned her every giddy thought as he caught her staring.  “Didn’t your mother tell you it was rude to stare, Kathryn?” He winked. 

A rouge a deep as her command red crept up her neck as she hid her eyes.  “I’m only kidding!” He laughed and threw off the last garment before tumbling into the water. “Come on, Kathryn, the water’s great!”

Standing at the top of the rocky bank, she scowled at him.  “You did that on purpose.”

“Maybe,” he glinted.  “Come on, I won’t look.” 

She shook her head and gave a smile as she started at the button of her shorts.  “Well,” she pointed towards the mountains at the far side of the lake. “You said you wouldn’t look. Turn around.” 

 _“Kathryn!”_ He gave an exaggerating roll of his eyes, dipped his head underwater, and disappeared only to emerge facing the other direction.  “Well! Come on! 

“I’m coming,” she rolled her eyes, laughing as she stripped down to nothing and stepped into the warm water. “It is nice.” 

“Can I turn around now?” 

Her arms brought her closer to him, a Machiavellian smile tugging at her lips.  “Uh huh." 

“I know that smile,” he made a face at her. “You’re up to something.”

 _“Me?”_ She came closer to him in the water.

“Stay _right_ there,” his arm came up out of the water in a gesture to bay her coming any closer. 

“I wish you could see your own face,” she laughed and the movement made her sink a little and swallow a quaff of water, making her cough, but doing nothing to stop the laughter.  “You actually look terrified.” 

“I _am_ terrified.” 

They shared a smile in the peace of the water while their feet treaded in the depth.  “This was a good idea,” She said finally. 

“All of my ideas are good.” 

She laughed outright,  “I have a good few anecdotes that prove that _isn’t_ the case.” 

“I’m sure.” 

“We’re not going to spend all day here, are we?”

“This coming from the person who kept taking breaks yesterday to sleep in the sun.” 

 She sniggered,  “I was tired!” 

“Well it’s my turn to be tired,” he winked. 

The movement of her arms made ripples in the water. “Fair enough.”

“So tell me about your dream.”

“I already told you,” She flicked water at him and gave a cheeky grin.  

“I want to hear it again,” He said, drawing nearer to her before she backed away with a lark, like a mare priming to be tamed.  “Please, tell me again.” 


	18. Chapter 18

Sweat beaded and trickled down his back in waves to collect at the top of his light shorts.  “I’m going to be drenched by the time we’re done today,” he said.

“I’ll bet,” he heard her smile over the communicator.

“I keep thinking of my father,” He said over the sound of the nail gun.  “He would be in his element doing this…  I think we’re just about finished with this wall.  I’ll step away and we can let the containment field down and see if it holds.”

“Fingers crossed,” She said.  “Whenever you’re ready.”  There was a pregnant silence, filled with the questions she wanted to ask. "Tell me."  

She watched as an odd expression covered his face and his shoulders let down the tension wrought by the work. “It’s funny the things that I remember about him.  For a long time I tried to forget everything.” 

“Why?”  Her voice echoed over the communicator and bounced slightly off the new wall. “Why did you try to forget?" 

He walked around the new structure while he thought on her question.  “Sometimes remembering things is hard.  And what you remember isn’t always pleasant.” 

“I can understand that.”  

“I loved my father,” He pushed against the wall, futilely with the containment field in place.  “But he also… _annoyed_ me. Does that make sense?”

Kathryn huffed another laugh. “You think you’re the only one who’s felt that way about their parents? I think that sums up adolescence.”  

“I know that,” He wiped the sweat off his forehead with the bottom of his damp shirt.  “But it was more than just an adolescent contention.  I was annoyed with everything that he stood for, and those things were _good._ Not all of them, but none of them were held with any malice or greed.  All he wanted was to make a world for our people and to preserve the traditions that meant something to him. And for those things I loathed him.” 

Another silence filled the space between them as Chakotay hopped down off the rise of the foundation.  “I think we can take the containment field down now.  I think it’ll hold.” 

Kathryn manipulated the controls that illuminated the console in front of her and held her breath as the field shimmered away, leaving a solid wall standing even in its absence. “We did it,” She breathed over the comm. “You did it.”  

A sense of pride filled him.  “ _We_ did it. The first wall of our home,” He said, walking back over to the structure and pushing against the wall before leaning on it.  “What do you think?”

Kathryn met him at the structure, appraising it up close instead of from the shuttle’s main window.  “A home,” She looked appreciatively at the stacked logs and leaned against them with him.  “Our home.” 

“Yes,” A smiled and moved a tendril of hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear.  “Our home.” 

If he had kissed her then, she would have let him, but infuriatingly he was content to watch her – appreciate her being here with him in this moment.  “I never had my own home,” Kathryn said.  “Only Starfleet apartments.”  

He smiled and let his hand trail down her arms and tangle with hers as they walked around the foundation that they were to lay with wood.  “So,” He looked at her and smiled.  “This here will be the kitchen.”

“Mmm,” She covered her eyes from the last vestiges of the evening sun.  “And that,” she pointed opposite to the space they were standing in.  “Is the living room.” 

“It’ll be good to have space to put the rest of the furniture and our things.” 

Kathryn nodded and thought of her trinkets – her gramophone, a few vases and pots, paintings she’d done in the time they were here and some from aboard the ship.  “I can see it,” she closed her eyes.  “All of it.” 

For the moment he was content just to be with her until the rumble of his stomach pierced the space between them. “Sorry,” he laughed. “I’m starving.”

Kathryn’s laugh mirrored his as she pulled on his hand and nodded back towards the shelter.  “So am I, but I haven’t been working outside all afternoon.”

“What you’re doing is just as important,” he allayed her insecurity. 

“Still.” 

“Stop, Kathryn.  What I’m doing doesn’t require two people.” 

“We’d get the job done faster if you let me help,” She argued. 

“We _wouldn’t,”_ he said.  

“We _would,”_ she stopped in front of him, indignant.  “Chakotay let me help.” 

He closed his eyes.  “What if something happens to you?” 

“Doing what?” She eyed him cynically. “Using a nail gun?” 

He met her steely blue irises and stared her down. “I need you in the shuttle to adjust the containment field.” 

“I’m sitting on my hands all day, Chakotay, while you’re working.  I don’t like doing nothing.” 

“Fine,” He breathed out once, knowing he’d lost.

“Fine?” She stepped back. 

His shoulders rose and fell as he walked past her into the cramped shelter.  “Fine.” 

“Well okay then,” Kathryn nodded once, satisfied. “I’ll help tomorrow.” 

“Have you always been like this?” 

“Like what?” She smiled and brushed past him.

“Stubborn and impossible.”  

She laughed and lightened the air in between. “Yes, if we were back on Earth I would introduce you to my mother who would tell you that I was always impossible.”  

“I’ll bet she has plenty of stories.”

“Too many,” she chuckled.  “She tried to tell Justin once when he came to meet them.”

“Justin?” 

Kathryn stopped the movements of her hands. “My first fiancé.”

“You were engaged before Mark?”

“Yes,” She said, turning to him. “For a few months to the man who died along with my father.” 

“Oh, Kathryn,” He looked at her mournfully. “I’m sorry.” 

She shrugged once, “I don’t really remember him anymore.  I’ve forgotten his voice, his face… everything about our relationship was so… _rushed.”_

He leaned down and kissed her cheek before he went back to preparing their dinner.  “Tell me." 

“When I met him I was so young and it felt like I fell in love in a second.  Justin was charming and confident and he wanted me.  He told me that…” She gave a morbid laugh, remembering something half embarrassing. “But everything about our relationship was so driven by Starfleet and our mutual desire to rise to the top. _Now_ ,” she emphasised the word.  “Now I don’t think that our engagement, or our marriage, would have lasted…” she trailed off and absently took the full plates to the table.  “Anyway. It's in the past now.”  

“I’m sorry, Kathryn.” 

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” She kissed his cheek like he’d done a few moments ago and turned her attention to their dinner. “Thank you for this. Tomorrow if we finish early enough we’ll try cooking some of the squash from the garden.” 

Chakotay took a bite into the sweet tomato and let its sweetness dribble down his chin, “Neelix would be proud to know how well the tomatoes are growing.”

She smiled and rubbed away the trail of juice from his chin with her thumb.  “I miss Neelix.”

“So do I,” He grabbed her hand and held. “I miss Kes, too. I miss their kindness.”

“Yes,” Kathryn ran her fingers in between his before disentangling them.  “I miss all of them.  I see them in my dreams when I sleep.  I hope they’re happy… that they’re safe.” 

“They’re in good hands,” Chakotay said. “They’ll be all right.”

“Just like us,” She whispered, finally, before taking a bite of her dinner. 

“Yes,” smiling, he turned to his own plate and took a hearty bite.  “Like us.”

 


	19. Chapter 19

 

Kathryn yawned as she sauntered sleepily out of her enclave, “I smell coffee." 

He smiled as he handed her a cup. “I thought we’d get an early start today.” 

“Mmm,” She yawned over the brim of the steel mug before she caught sight of the odd colour in his cup.  “What are you drinking?” 

“Green tea,” He looked down.  “It’s healthy.” 

“It’s green,” She made a face.

“It’s _healthy_ ,” he laughed.  “Healthier - at least- than the gallons of that brown muck you drink too much of.”  

 _“Coffee_ ,” Kathryn corrected.  “Is the finest organic suspension ever devised.”   

He laughed at that and took another sip of his tea. “I’ll take your word for it. I was thinking about the house…” Chakotay replaced the mug on the table and brought the console closer to them. “Today we could try and get these this wall up,” he pointed.  “We’ll have to put the partitions between the rooms in before we think about this one." 

Kathryn nodded and swallowed loudly. “Mm, it’s coming together very nicely.”

“The roof won’t be too hard,” he talked out loud. “We already have the frame… we just need to think of plumbing.”  

“That won’t be too hard.  We can replicate the parts from the shuttle’s replicator,” she pointed behind her.  “We’ll save this one for our food.” 

He sighed and let the breath leave his chest in a huff. “Ready to get started?”

Kathryn gave a broad smile and downed the last of her coffee, an action to which he made a face.  “Don’t you _sneer,_ Chakotay,” she shook her head.  “Finest substance ever devised.  One day you’ll see that I’m right!”  

* * *

 The hot sun pelted down on her fair skin, making her sweat as much as he did yesterday.  But it felt good, she decided, even if it meant more freckles at the end of the day.

“Phoebe would love this,” Kathryn said, ending with a laugh at the conjured image of her sister. “She was always out making things with her hands. Sculptures, little carvens…  She made all of frames for her own paintings.  She was amazing,” Kathryn let it all out in a breath. “I never told her that.”

She leaned back on the ladder and wiped a drop of sweat that was about the drip off of her nose.  “It’s like you said – sometimes it’s hard to remember.” 

Chakotay looked at her, removing the sunglasses from his eyes and pushed away all the sweat that had collected on them. “Tell me more about Phoebe.” 

She smiled not a little mournfully. “Phoebe and I were opposites,” Kathryn remembered.  “In everything – the way we thought; the way we looked; how we talked.  _No one_ believed we were sisters!”  Kathryn gave another laugh and went back to the task in front of her.  “I have a picture of her in the house.  I’ll show you later.”  

“Tell me more.” 

That smile widened as she positioned the nail gun and drove another set into the beam.  “Phoebe’s a little taller than I am. Not by much, but enough that she thinks she can bully me.”  

“Did she bully you?” He laughed, watching the girlish impishness over her sun kissed skin. 

“No,” Kathryn chuckled.  “ _I_ bullied her.” 

“Now that I can believe!”  

Kathryn couldn’t help the next round of mirth that bubbled up from her gut.  “Her hair was curly, and it fell in soft ringlets down her back – like my mother’s. When I look at Phoebe I see my mother.” 

“Who do you look more like?” 

“My father,” She spoke loudly over the sound of the gun.  “Edward. He was so proud of that.” 

“He must have been handsome,” Chakotay thought of the man and tried to mesmerize his image.  

She smiled brighter at his compliment, “Yes, he was.  _Dashing_ , I used to think. But then I think every little girl thinks her daddy is handsome.”  

“What about your mother?” 

“Gretchen,” Kathryn breathed out her name wistfully. “Tall, like my father – like Phoebe. They used to tease me that I was the runt.”  

He looked over at her standing on the ladder but still reaching as high as her arms could. “I’m sure you didn’t have any trouble keeping up.” 

She cast him a wicked look, “I had to make up for my height somehow.” 

“In spades,” he chuckled.  “Tell me more about Phoebe.” 

She took a deep breath of warm air and let it suffuse her lungs and colour her thoughts about her sister.  “I tried not to think of her for so long that I’m starting to forget her.  We never saw eye to eye. I never understood why she wanted to be an artist.  I couldn’t understand it – understand her, because we were so different.  All I wanted was Starfleet and the prestige and fulfilment that I saw that it brought to daddy.  But Phoebe was a free spirit – imaginative and playful.  Now I wish I had taken more time to be with her – to understand her.” 

“I feel that way about my own sister,” The sentiments that she expressed resonated in his own gut when he thought of the tall, dark-haired young woman that he’d left behind.  “I think she felt the same way about me as you felt about Phoebe. She never wanted to leave Dorvan, or my people – our parents.  And all I wanted to do was run as fast and as far as I could.  Now I feel like I never knew her – never took the time to know her.”

She wanted to embrace him in that moment, and hold his wet skin close to hers while she kissed away the sadness that littered his soft timbre.  “I feel that way about Phoebe,” Kathryn said softly. “I wish there was some way to tell her how I felt and make things right.” 

“So do I,” He pursed his lips and turned - glad his eyes were hidden by the glasses.  “But we’ll just have to hope that somehow they know that we loved them and that we’re sorry.” 

“That was the hardest part,” Kathryn thought back to the horror of two years prior – the moment they learned they were light years from home, and that she would never see her family again in her lifetime. “It was the first thing I thought of after I learned how long it would take us to get home – that I wouldn’t be at Phoebe’s wedding.  I was going to be her maid of honour.  I was so surprised when she asked me,” Kathryn remembered.  “We used to fight all the time.  Phoebe didn’t like Mark, she thought I was settling after Justin, but then again she didn’t like Justin,” she laughed.  “I could never win with her!”

He laughed along with her but listened as she continued.  

“I was going to throw her a wedding shower when I got back.  I can’t tell you how hard it was to plan the damn thing!  I didn’t have any idea what to do.  I kept having to ask my mother! After everything, I just didn’t want to let her down. I had everything planned down to the last detail.” 

“She would have loved it, Kathryn,” He said softly. “She knew – _knows.”_

“Mm,” Kathryn’s shoulders sagged, crestfallen as she stepped down the ladder.  “I think this wall will hold.  We should start on the partitions before we finish today.” 

He nodded and followed her lead back inside the shuttle.  “I need to look at the plans once more.  Then we need to set up the laser projector.” 

The shuttle was nearly cold as compared to the heat of the outside. Kathryn shivered as she sat down.  “The moment of truth,” she crossed her fingers like a superstitious young girl as he let the containment field down.

“Good job,” He breathed in relief. “If we start on the kitchen today, then that’s the main part.  The rest won’t take too long.” 

“Mm,” She sat back, satisfied by the work of their hands.  “I understand it now.” 

The leather on the chair felt good against his back and sent shivers of cool down to his toes.  “What?”

“Why Phoebe loved to make things,” she pointed out the shuttle’s main window to the structure that was looking more and more like a home.  “I find it very satisfying now:  making something meaningful.”

He flashed handsome dimples and passed a laugh as he watched her.  “I used to grumble at my father for dragging me away from my studies to help him build houses, but now I’m grateful for it.” 

She grinned. “We’re a pair then aren’t we?” 

“How about…” Chakotay groaned at the protest his muscles made when he got up. “We get some lunch and look back over the plans.”

She winked and followed him out the shuttle and back into the shelter, “I’ll never say no to food that I don’t have to cook.”

He rolled his eyes and took some bread out of the stasis container.  “I promise you, Kathryn, that for as long as I’m able, you’ll never have to cook.”

“I hope that’s a long time, then,” she said seriously, reminded of the inevitable day when one of them would leave the other.

“I won’t leave you, Kathryn,” he said earnestly. 

“You can’t promise that,” She whispered, looking up at him with guarded eyes. “Something could happen to you and I’d be alone here. With no one.”  

His hand reached down and tangled with hers. “I won’t leave if you promise me the same.” 

She gave him a lopsided smile, “where would I go?”

A memory of the not so distant past stabbed him in the gut.  “You almost left me.”

“I know.” She thought back to the night of the plasma storm.  “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” He leaned down and kissed her forehead tenderly before he turned back to their lunch. “Just don’t ever leave me.”   


	20. Chapter 20

_“Ouch!”_ Chakotay pulled his hand up abruptly and laughed at himself.  “That’ll remind me to sand these floors.”  

Concerned, she ambled down the ladder.  “Did you get a splinter?” 

“Mmm,” He gnawed at the pierced finger.  “I did.  Small one.” 

“The small ones always hurt the most.  Like paper cuts,” She gave a smile and pulled at his hand as her sunglasses fell down her nose.  “I can’t see anything,” she said, turning the reddened digit this way and that. 

“I think I chewed it out.” 

“ _Charming_ ,” She glared.  “Next time let me look at it _before_ you chew on it.  We’ll get it out with a pair of tweezers and make sure it’s all out.  Does it still feel like there’s something there?  I’ll get my magnifying glass.”  

He pressed one finger against the other.  “No. I don’t think so.  It’s just sore.”  

“Aw,” She gave him a look that she’d give to a little boy.  For a moment he imagined that – imagined her with a little boy, soothing his tear-wetted face when he skinned his knee or got a cut. 

The wistful ache that played out over his dark features mesmerised her. “What?” She asked. 

“Nothing,” he smiled. 

 _Someday_ he would tell her of all the things he held close to his heart since he’d met her – since he’d started to love her. 

She smiled cryptically back at him and slipped her sunglasses back over her eyes.  “You’re a curious man, Mr Chakotay.”    

Her statement made him laugh.  “I’ve been told that before.”

“I’m sure,” Kathryn sniggered.  “Tall, dark, mysterious Maquis with the tattoo over his eye...” 

This time the laughter bubbled up from his gut.  “So that’s how you see me.”  

“First impressions are everything,” She replied with a languid voice while she conjured the first image of him that she’d seen in person on her view screen now nearly three years ago.

His next words were laced with every bit of dimpled skin on his cheeks, “I won’t say what I thought of you then – _Ouch!_ ” He rubbed the spot on his bicep where the dulled edge of a nail had pelted off of him. Making a mock-sour face he grimaced up at her. 

“Careful, Mr Chakotay,” Kathryn waved her finger at him, unable to hide the laughter that came so freely. 

“You could have taken my arm off!” He frowned.

“It’d take a lot more than a dulled nail to do that.  Are you going to tell me?” 

“Well not anymore…” still laughing, he turned from her back to the projector he’d set up on the floor that projected a set of red lines along the proposed room’s margins.  “And don’t throw anymore nails at me.” 

Her gaiety was the only entity that filled the brief stillness between them.  “You’re staring at the wall.  Is something on your mind?”

“I was just thinking,” his hands spread wide to indicate the unfinished wall.  “Instead of cutting down more wood we could make this wall glass.  It would give us a good view of the mountains.” 

“I’m not opposed,” She said, stepping back down the ladder to join him.  “I didn’t hurt your arm, did I?”  

“No,” He laughed and reached for her hand.  “I was just kidding.”  

“When do you think we’ll finish?  It’s getting cooler, I think.  Especially at night.”  

“Not long now,” He breathed out a sigh.  “The hardest part will be he plumbing and environmental controls that we can adapt from the shelter.”  

“It doesn’t feel like we’ve been here for four months, does it?”  

“It doesn’t,” Chakotay breathed out, thinking of how quickly that time had gone by.  “It seems like it was just yesterday that Tuvok told us they were leaving orbit.” 

“I wonder where they are now.” 

“I don’t know.  Safe, I hope, wherever they are.”  

“Yes,” she agreed quietly.  “Our life out there was…” Kathryn struggled for the right word.  “So…”  

“Complicated,” was his chuckled suggestion.

“Yes.” Kathryn took a breath of the cooling air.  “Different.  Sometimes I think back to what’s happened over the past three years and I don’t believe it.  Some of the experiences we’ve had here in the Delta Quadrant I was never prepared for.”  

“That didn’t mean that you did know how to handle them.  We barely would have survived the first week here if it hadn’t been for your ingenuity most of the time.”  

She laughed at the sincerity of his words.  “Flattery will get you nowhere, Chakotay,” Kathryn stood on her tippy toes to kiss his smooth cheek.  “And you know that’s not true.” 

He looked at her like her would a little girl who wasn’t able to understand adult words.  Soft, kind eyes with sunset laden crinkles filled her when she thought of him with a little girl, using that same expression that spoke of unflagging love and infinite gentleness. 

“What?” Chakotay asked softly. 

Kathryn drew a deep breath, in an instant forgetting what they’d been talking about.  “Nothing.  What were you saying?” 

He smiled and tugged her closer.  “We were talking about the house, I think.” 

“About windows instead of walls.” 

“Yes, what do you think?” 

“I think it’s a good idea,” Kathryn leaned her head against his shoulder and enjoyed the comfort that he brought her.  “A very good idea.  And I’ve always wanted skylights in the ceiling of a house.” 

“Then we’ll have skylights,” he promised.  “As many as you want.” 

“At least one in the bedroom and one in the bathroom.  We’ll become permanent lay- abouts if we don’t have the sun to wake us.” 

“We’re already lay-abouts,” he chuckled.  “Looking back, I can’t imagine how we were up at o’six hundred on the ship every day.”

She shared his amusement.  “We’d better get back to work.  Do you need help in the shuttle to stack the next wall?” 

“Yes,” he tugged at her hand.  “Thank you.  And then we’ll finish the rest tomorrow.” 

“We’ll need to establish plumbing now,” she prattled, following his wake back into the cold cabin. 

“Mm,” he nodded once, falling into contemplation.  “We can replicate the parts in the morning.  Kathryn?” 

“Yes,” she answered him absently while she looked over the schematics they kept up. 

“Do you still think about it?” 

“About what?” 

“About the things we did out there, about things that happened.” 

Her fingers stopped their movements and she looked at him slowly.  “Yes,” she said softly.  “I think of them all the time.  I think of the people we’ve met – the places we’ve visited and I see them all when I close my eyes.” 

“Who do you think of?”  

“I think of Caylem, the man who thought I was his daughter.  We were on the Mokra home world, and- “

“I remember,” he said.  “You went missing and I was worried. You, B’Elenna and Tuvok…  I was prepared to tear that whole planet up looking for you. ” 

She nodded, thinking of the precious necklace that she kept in the drawer near her bed.  “I think of him, and I think of the face of that young Vhnorian girl who we sent to die thinking that we were going to save her…  What do you think of?” 

“Too much,” he nodded.  “Too much has happened already.  Now I’ve made you sad,” he noted the sadness on her face.  “I’m sorry.”  

She smiled sweetly at him.  “Just because remembering is hard doesn’t mean it’s not necessary.  I’ve been thinking a lot about it, though.  Especially what would have happened if we were to get home…” 

“What do you mean?” 

“We’ve broken the Prime Directive so many times, Chakotay.” 

“Not advertently, Kathryn,” he stopped what he was doing to sit nearer to her.  “And when we did it, we had no choice.” 

“I’m just not sure Starfleet would have seen it like that.”

Chakotay remembered the litany of regulations that he’d memorised as a cadet.  “None of those regulations were written to apply to a ship or a captain in the situation that we'd been thrown into.” 

Kathryn rubbed her temples, trying vainly to bay a headache.  “But that doesn’t make it any easier.  I only ever wanted to do what was right.” 

“And you did,” he said gently. “You are.”   

She nodded once and he squeezed her hand before he started to pull away.  But she pulled him back and looked at him seriously.  “You don’t have to palliate me because I was your captain.” 

“Kathryn,” he let out a frustrated laugh at her name.  “And _you_ don’t need my validation.  You know what you did was right, and when it wasn’t – now it doesn’t matter. It’s all been done.” 

“I know that.”   

“What’s this about, Kathryn?”

“I don’t know,” she let her answer out in a short breath.  “I’m sorry.” 

He took his seat on the ledge beside her again and tipped her gaze to meet his.  “I know this isn’t the life you wanted or imagined for yourself.”  

“No,” she shook her head.  “It’s not.  Sometimes, in some moments, I think it’s better, but then it isn’t.” 

“I know.” 

“You’re happy here, aren’t you, Chakotay?” 

He couldn’t lie so he told the truth.  “Yes.” 

“Why?" 

“Because I’m here with you, Kathryn.  And that’s all I’ve wanted since I met you.”  

Her heart broke at his loving sincerity.  “We’ve known each other for two years, but I feel like I’ve known you before I understood how to breathe. Does that even make sense?” 

 _“Yes.”_ He nodded once and went to kiss her forehead like he was becoming accustomed to, but she evaded him and instead met his lips with her own. 

She smiled genuinely, her sadness broken through.  “Thank you.  I, uh, guess we should get back to work.” 

“Mm,” Chakotay can’t resist kissing her again before moving back his own spot, anticipating the completion of their house – a life _full of_  Kathryn.  “I guess we should…”   


	21. Chapter 21

Kathryn woke that morning before him, anticipating the day in the near future when she could close a door between the bedroom and the kitchen, negating the need to be so quiet with her movements.

The mornings were getting colder now, and the small hairs on her arm stood up as the cool air met her skin when she walked outside the cabin.  It smelled like autumn, and she filled her lungs with the fresh scent. 

The garden was coming along so nicely now with the crops growing taller, reaching their leaves up towards the abundant sunlight. One crop of tomatoes hung fecund, pulling on the leaves before she started to pick them.  For a moment Kathryn thought of the garden her mother tended back in Indiana.  Kathryn hadn’t taken much notice of the plants back then – the study of them was too banal and something she relegated to Phoebe and Gretchen.  But she found it rewarding now; planting the seeds and watching them grow – eating the product of their labours.  It was a different kind of life. 

She made makeshift a basket with the front of her T-shirt and started to pick the ripened tomatoes.  They looked sweet and she couldn’t wait to show them to Chakotay when he woke up. 

Kathryn turned back to the shelter, but stopped before she reached the door to look at the home they were building. Without thought, she started walking towards the structure.  It was small – only big enough for the two of them, now.  It would be easier to make something modest and then build on it as time passed if they needed. 

The rough stone of the front steps felt ragged and cold on her bare feet.  She looked down and watched her step as she crossed over onto the wooden floor. It felt smoother now after yesterday when Chakotay had sanded it, but she was still wary after his splinter.

The home felt like it had in her reverie.  Still just a rough skeleton, she used her imagination to fill in what was not readily apparent; a fireplace by the far wall ablaze with a warmth that would fill the small rooms in the cooler seasons; a table made by his hands, piled treacherously with padds and empty coffee cups and samples she'd collect from the environment; the couch that stood in the stasis unit covered in blankets... The imaginings brought a sense of peace that filled her in this place – in her home.  _Their_ home. 

She thought of him in this space - of all the wonderful things made by him.  What a wonder, she thought, to find oneself so far from home only to fall in love. Even more unbelievable – to fall in love with the man she was sent to capture. Kathryn remembered back to her last days at Starfleet before she'd disembarked on her ill-fated mission.   

Dangerous was a word headquarters had used to describe him in their initial briefing.  Dangerous and _a nuisance._ The descriptors had come from Admiral Caldwell, whose eyes had been stern in warning and his voice all the more austere.  Kathryn had left the room that day with her shoulders held high.  Her mission was important, she thought.  She was helping to bring peace to a precarious situation, and  Chakotay with his motley crew of bandits were an impediment. But what she had been told and made to believe was so very different from what she felt... 

Kathryn had studied him meticulously in the weeks leading up to her departure.  She had scoured top-level security databases and read everything she could about this Maquis firebrand. She spent her nights reading and re-reading his lecture notes, his syllabi… she was fascinated by him: his words, his theories.  They should have been dry, but his summaries on the ethics of war and peace were poetic and mesmerising. She imagined arguments with him – heated debates on the words of T’Kar and Anghaal, and discussions into the wee hours of the morning.  She would never have admitted it to anyone, even to herself, but even before she saw him on her view screen those years ago, she had already started to fall in love with him.

Absently she continued walking, but stopped in the room that her feet had brought her to; the one that was theirs. This is where she would love and be loved by him. Like in her dream, he would carve a bed for them and love her long into the hours of the early morning.  A deep breath filled her lungs and she closed her eyes to savour it and the precious thoughts running through her. A smile crept up upon her features just as the sun came up and started to warm the skin on her back, reminding her that soon it would be another warm day. 

“I love seeing that smile,” His voice was rich, sleep-laden. 

A laugh escaped her, but she did not open her eyes, even as an arm wrapped itself around her waist, his hands on the bare skin of her stomach.  A small gasp escaped her lips at the intimacy of it; even though they had kissed and shared that closeness, this was somehow still so rich.  “Good morning.” 

She felt his puffs of breath warming the skin of her neck.  “Good morning.”  

“I have tomatoes,” She opened her eyes and looked down beyond the tomato-filled bounty that burdened her T-shirt, satisfied and aroused seeing the darkness of his skin mingle with the paleness of her own.

“You’re beautiful, Kathryn,” He said suddenly. “I never said that to you before, but I should.  You should be told that every day.” 

A rush of tenderness filled her. 

“I mean it,” He continued. “I’ve always thought that. I think it every day, whenever I look at you.” 

“Thank you,” She smiled again and squeezed the arm holding her to him before she pulled away and turned around to regard him. “I was thinking about you,” She looked at the frame of a room they were standing in.  “About us.  Here.”

He smiled and one dimple was unevenly deeper than the other.  “I’ll make a bed.” 

She took a deep contented breath.  “It’s getting colder in the mornings now.”

“Like it used to in San Francisco when fall was coming.”

“Yes,” She smiled.  “I hope the winter will be mild.”  

“Me too...” 

The conversation petered out and all that was left were silly smiles.  “What are we going to do today?” 

“I thought,” He moved his eyes from her to survey their surroundings.  “That we might get started on the plumbing and wiring.”  

“That sounds like a lot of work...” The grin on her face belied her words. 

“It is,” He winked.  “So we’d better get started.” 


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi Everyone! Thank you for being so incredibly patient and lovely. There are a few comments that I've not responded to and I'm sorry. It's been a crazy few weeks. I flew from Ireland to Boston and I'm in Montana currently doing a programme so bear with me! Thanks for all of your kind words and kudos.

Kathryn hummed while she worked, fastening the wires to the wall and running them along the floorboards. “This is fun,” She smiled, stepping down the ladder to take another drink from her water bottle. “It reminds me of the projects I used to do with my father.  He would be in his element here doing work like this. So would my mother.” The water dripped down her chin and the smile that began painting her striking features disappeared behind a frown.

Sensing her forlorn, he stopped his work and stepped towards her – aching to make that sadness disappear.  “Did I ever tell you,” He took down his sunglasses and looked at her. “That I met your father once?”   

“No,” Kathryn’s posture changed in that moment; she looked at him like she did a few weeks ago – when he withheld from her the information about the bathtub.  “Tell me.”

“I met him during my first week as an instructor. I remember he was giving a seminar on his experience with the Bactricians and bringing them into the Federation.”

“One of his longer missions,” Kathryn remembered. “He was gone for four months. I wanted to go to that seminar, but I was on my first an away mission after graduation and I didn’t make it back on time.  So, how was it?”

“It was good,” he smiled.  “I remember thinking he was a natural born story teller with his retelling of the harrowing negotiations.” 

Kathryn laughed, remembering his stories. “He was!  My mother always told him he was quite the raconteur. He liked to embellish the edges,” she winked.  

“Well,” Chakotay shrugged and went to pull on his ear lobe.

“Stop that,” she smiled and caught his hand. “Tell me more.” 

“I met him in the corridor on the way to the seminar room.  I recognised him immediately because he’d taught my large first-year tactics class. He recognised me right away and said my name as soon as I rounded the corner,” Chakotay recalled. “I was a little taken aback. I didn’t think he remembered me after all those years.”  

“You must’ve made quite an impression,” Kathryn winked.  

His darker colour rouged and he went to pull at his earlobe again, but remembered her silent admonishment.  “Maybe.” 

“Or you got an A,” she laughed. “Daddy was a _notoriously_ hard grader.” 

“Maybe that’s it then,” he chuckled. “Either way, I didn’t think he’d remember me.  We walked towards the lecture hall together and he told me he was nervous about speaking in front of such a large group.  At first I couldn’t understand why; the freshman cadet seminar was over 200.” 

“It was his secret,” Kathryn smiled. “He hated public speaking. He told me he got sweaty palms.”

Chakotay chuckled at the image of the great Edward Janeway being nervous about public speaking.  “Well you never would have known.” 

“He was a good actor,” Kathryn nodded and sat down on the cool steps of the cabin.  “Tell me more. What else did you talk about it?” 

“Well,” Chakotay took a seat next to her, grateful for the coolness of the rocks against his legs.  “He told me that he heard that I was new the tactics instructor and said he wasn’t surprised.” 

Kathryn laughed, leaning forward and rested her elbows on her knees.  “Oh you really made in impression!” 

He blushed again and shrugged his shoulders. “I asked him if he was enjoying the summer weather, and he told me he was excited to go back to Indiana for a few weeks before his debriefing.”  Chakotay ran his fingers through his hair, surprised at the frankness of the memories bombarding his mind.   “I haven’t remembered any of this in so long.” 

“Daddy loved Indiana.  We should have moved to San Francisco, but he never wanted to leave our farmhouse in Bloomington.  I remember when I was younger, when he was first promoted to Admiral, Phoebe was so sweet when she tearfully asked him if we would have to leave home. He promised us we’d never leave.” Kathryn’s smile was wistful. “Thank you for telling me this.” 

His lips quirked a half smile such that only one dimple deeply dented his cheek as he ran gentle fingers through the soft hair gathered in a pony tail at the nape of her neck.  “I’m sorry you lost him, Kathryn.  I’m sorry you’re so far from home.”  

Kathryn leaned into his touch and closed her eyes. “I don’t remember much of what happened on Tau Ceti, just that I was sure I was going to die with Daddy and Justin. I remember knowing before my head slipped under the water that they were dead.  The water was ice cold, so cold that I could pretend it was warm. I was never afraid of the water; when I was younger, Phoebe and I used to practically live in the creek behind the farm.  I felt a sense of peace surround me in those few moments under the water, and I was nearly excited. I felt warm and I could have sworn there was a light surrounding me, something calling me by name. And for a moment I thought I could breathe underwater,” she breathed out once. “The next thing I knew I woke up in sickbay on the _Ulysses_. I was terribly disappointed,” She felt him draw closer to her, pulled her to him, and kiss the hair on her head.

“I knew when I joined Starfleet that there were risks and that there might be a day when I died in the line of duty. And after Tau Ceti, I was okay with that.  Somehow, though, it seems so much worse to be so far from home.  I think that’s why I was so adamant for the first few months.” 

“I don’t know what to say, Kathryn,” He breathed. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Chakotay,” She turned in his arms and cradled his cheek in her palm.  “Why would you say something like that?  You’ve done so much to make me happy.” 

“I’ve been… selfish,” he admitted. “I’ve been so happy here because I’m with you, living off the land, like I did when I was a boy. I have nothing to go back to in the Alpha Quadrant.  No one’s mourned me; no one is waiting for me.” 

“That doesn’t make you selfish,” Her voice was infinitely tender. “The reality is that we’re probably never going to leave here, and _now_ …” she emphasised the word. “Now, I’m okay with that.” 

Chakotay shook his head, “I still-“ He tried to counter her words, but was silenced by the softness of her lips against his, tugging at him, loving him.  His mouth opened seamlessly under hers before their tongues slid wetly over one another. He palmed her cheek, fingers tangling in the sun-warmed strands of her hair before he felt her smile and pull away.   

“Shh,” she smiled.  “You make me happy now.” 

A rush of emotion suffused him, so great that it was impossible for his body to contain it, so it bubbled out under his nose and his eyes.  “I didn’t mean to make you cry,” she smiled sheepishly and wiped away the moisture.

But he shook his head and held her fingers close to his wetted skin. “No one has ever said that to me.” 

She turned her head and kissed his cheek. “No one has ever told me that I’m beautiful.”  

He smiled brightly such that white teeth and dimples lit up his handsome face as he took her hand.  “You are,” he said seriously as he got up from the cool stone and tugged at her hand.  

Kathryn kissed his cheek.  “If we finish the wiring today we can start putting up the final walls tomorrow and start moving in.” 

“I’ll have to get started on some furniture. Maybe this evening, when it gets cooler.” 

“I was thinking about a nice bath,” Kathryn’s voice cragged as she continued assembling the circuits.  “After all this work it’ll be nice to have a good soak.”

Chakotay chuckled.  “Sounds like a plan.” 


	23. Chapter 23

From where he stood, he could hear her splashing around in the bathtub and it made him smile. She hums to herself there like she does when she works – all tunes he can’t recognise and, he thinks, neither can she. 

His fingers smoothed over the roughed wood from the new logs they’ve harvested earlier in the week. The bigger pieces he’ll leave for the walls in their home; the smaller ones and the chaff he’ll use for the bed and the tables. Chakotay has memorised the dimensions of every room, and he measured these pieces accordingly. 

For this piece in particular, he opts for something simple – something utilitarian that will last for years rather than something intricate and time-consuming. 

Though he enjoys the process, he’ll be happy when this project is behind them and they finally have a real home to settle into. Itchy fingers move over the unformed timber that he has worked for the duration of the evening to smooth. He knows what he’s building – the significance of it. This bed is where he will love and be loved by her; a place that signifies the dissolution of the last barrier that stands so heavily between them. 

He has positioned his workspace so that he can look and dream of ideas for it. “I was thinking,” His voice cuts through the hummed quiet between them. 

“You were thinking…” he hears her grin, waiting for him to continue his thought. 

“I was thinking,” Chakotay laughs. “What do you think of moving that bathtub inside?” 

“Mmm,” Water splashes and he can see it agitate over the edges. “I like the idea. We can put a showerhead over it, too.” 

“I was thinking the same thing. Plumbing won’t be too hard,” he thinks out loud. “We just run the line from the river to the house and replicate a heater.” 

“More work,” He hears that smile again and more water sloshing over the edges. “I’d like to have showers again, though. We can use the line we made to water the plants if we need to.” 

“Which reminds me I’m hungry.” 

“We just ate two hours ago.” 

“I’m still hungry,” he grumbled. 

Kathryn leered at the image that came to mind: a mischievous boy with irresistible dimples and a peevish grin stretching his golden cheeks. “I can imagine you when you were a teenager – eating everything in sight.” 

He laughed at that. “My mother hated it!” 

“I’ll bet!” She chuckled again. “The benefit of having girls is that you never seem to have that problem.” 

“I don’t believe that,” he remembered his own experience. “My mother thought my sister was as bad as I was.” 

Kathryn thought of a little girl that looked just like him, stuffing her cheeks with everything delicious. The thought made her happy, but dually brought a tinge of sadness of what they could never have. Not here. Not alone like they were. “Did I say something?” She heard him say. 

“No,” she breathed out the word. “I was just thinking. Tell me about what you’re building,” Kathryn was determined to change the subject. 

“It’s a secret,” he grinned, knowing it would rile her. 

“Fine,” she made a face into the night. “I think I can hazard a guess anyway.” 

“I’ll bet,” he laughed before the sound of the phaser muffled the melody of his mirth. 

Kathryn closed and opened her eyes, the sound of him cutting wood providing a background to her thoughts as she scanned the midnight skies and examined the bright stars she found there. For a moment wondered about the fate of her beloved ship and crew, and she prayed to unseen, unknown deities, asking them for their hands of provision for the people that she loved – prayed they would be safe and make it home. 

The night sky was darker here than it had been at home, when artificial lights had illuminated the sky’s dark dominion, diminishing some of its fervour. The constellations were becoming more familiar to her as she took time each evening to map them. Each star was known by a name, named firstly after the ones dearest to her. 

Like a child, she gazed up at them and followed their haloed trajectory with her finger, as if she were greeting them – thanking them for the abundant light that they shone. 

The warmth of the water had long since dissipated, she realised, as a cool breeze rustled the trees and raised goose bumps on her arms. And all of a sudden, the thirsty towel hanging on the branch held more appeal as she stood and wrapped herself in it before she followed the noise emanating from the other side of the shelter. 

The sound of the phaser died down, replaced with the more traditional din of the steal saw. “I’m getting tired,” she heard him yawn before she turned the corner and saw him standing fatiguedly in front of his project. 

“Well that sounds about right,” She leaned against the side of the house and smiled wistfully at him. “We’ve been working almost sixteen hour days trying to get the cabin finished. You have the right to be tired.” 

Chakotay wasn’t listening to what she was saying; his tired mind was consumed with the image that she presented him: carefree in repose against the side of the house, looking at him with affection – love. 

On the ship, he knew somehow that this woman existed; that underneath her professionalism was someone spontaneous, loving – funny and carefree. Towards the beginning of their journey, he supposed that they would make it home soon – too soon to explore what was between them; too soon for her to fall in love with him. But, graciously he found that the Spirits were kind to those who were patient and asked kindly. 

A wider smile crept over her features as casual glance that he’d given her at first quickly morpholigised into something akin to undisguised love and affection. “Are you listening to a word I’ve said?” 

“Um,” A cheeky breath escaped his chest as his gaze quickly turned down, half in amusement and half in embarrassment. 

“I didn’t think so,” She laughed before turning the corner and entering the shelter. 

“Was that a trick question?” His gentle voice as she disappeared behind her partition and slipped the cotton nightgown down over her bare skin. 

“Was what a trick question?” 

“Well,” He took a deep breath, shucking off his dirty shorts and T shirt before slipping into his own bed. “You were standing in front of me in only a towel. Was I supposed to be listening to you?” 

Kathryn laughed, “and I suppose me being completely covered in a towel automatically renders you deaf?” 

“Well when I know you’re naked underneath it…” he leered, turning towards his head towards her, imagining her mischievous grin looking back at him. 

The statement brought a loud crack of laughter as the lights went out. “I guess I know what to do when I want you to do something.” 

“I think you already know how to do that,” a smile crinkled his eyes as he closed them. “Good night, Kathryn.” 

“Good night, Chakotay,” she breathed. “Hurry up and finish your project.” 

“Oh,” his voice turned tired and sleepy. “You can count on it.”


	24. Chapter 24

The sun was hotter today than it was the last. The trend towards cooler days in the last week or so seemed to have been interrupted and now the heat was back in full force.

“I take back what I said about the days getting cooler.” Chakotay had taken off his shirt and thrown the tattered garment on the ground next to his near-empty canteen. “I don't like this heat, and I want to finish this damn house and finally take break.”

Despite her own agitation with the temperature, she looked back at him with an impish smile on her face while she wiped the sweat from out under her sunglasses as she looked down at her from her rise up on the ladder. “Someone’s grouchy today.”

“I’m not grouchy,” his tone was peevish. “I’m hot and I’m tired.”

“I thought this is like the climate you grew up on.”

“It is,” He put down the rudimentary hammer in his hand after he’d finished agitatedly pounding in the last nail into the wall that separated the living area and the bedroom. “Still,” he wiped more sweat off his neck and took a drink from the bottle at his feet. “I don’t like it any more now than I did then.”

Kathryn suddenly laughed at his sullenness. “Why are you laughing?”

“You,” She shook her head and stretched the tired muscles of her neck while she leaned against the high wall. "I'm laughing because of you."

She looked down and could see the beginnings of a smile stretch those brooding cheeks and bring precious dimples out of hiding. Her laughter fomented his own and for the moment he couldn’t stay angry. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?” Her laughter petered down into a trickle as she hot sun mercifully disappeared behind a cloud.

He motioned indistinctly with his hands in front of him looking for the thought he wanted to purvey. “Make me come back to myself.”

She smiled crookedly at him and took one step down the high ladder she was propped up on. “We keep making ambitious plans at the beginning of every day that we never seem to finish. Maybe we need to start being a little more conservative with our planning.”

Chakotay rolled his eyes at that and looked down as he leaned against the newly erected wall. “I’m just tired of living in the shelter. I want somewhere where we can have space and breathe.”

“I don’t like living there any more than you do,” Kathryn made her way down the ladder to get to her water bottle. “But it’s what we have.”

He let out a solemn breath and looked up at the sky, watching blessedly grey clouds cover the sky again and block out the searing sun. “I know,” he acquiesced and then smiled. “You’re starting to sound like me on a good day.”

“Are you implying that I’m the one who usually complains?” His smile was wicked in response. “I do not complain.” He was silent for a while longer, staring her down with that grin still on his face. “Okay fine,” she relented. “Sometimes I complain.”

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” he turned back to the newly placed wall and spread his hands along it. “I’ll have to sand this down. “We can paint the walls if we want.”

“Something in blues and greens,” she laughed and the water spilled down her chest and wetted her tank top.

“Or maybe a pinstripe,” he chuckled, remembering their early banter.

“Maybe,” Kathryn let the canteen fall back on the floor. “Tell me something else while we work. Talk to me.”

“What do you want me to tell you?”

“Something,” Kathryrn shrugged and moved the ladder over to finish wiring the kitchen. The work was rudimentary to her. She had memorised the schematics of the shelter and had started dismantling it in piecemeal, leaving behind the replicator and some of the lighting. Those she would install last. But at least for now, by the end of the day they would have some light in their home. “Tell me about how you met B’Elanna.”

“B’Elanna,” he breathed her name with a solemn fondness. “Before I inherited the Val Jean, I heard a rumour about this young firebrand engineer who’d just dropped out of the academy. No one wanted to work with her,” he laughed at the memory. “Even though she was a genius, she was too cantankerous for most people to work with.”

“That sounds like our B’Elanna,” Kathryn laughed. “I’ll never forget the time she broke Joe Carey’s nose! Not to mention the handful of times she’s come to my ready room on the war path.”

“Now you see why no one wanted to work with her. Imagine that temper in a command structure looser than Voyager and you have more than a broken nose to contend with.”

“So you requested her?”

“What can I say??" He shrugged. "I’m a glutton for punishment.” Chakotay re-examined the dimensions of their room as he placed the laser scanner. “She was one of the best decisions that I ever made.” He stopped to think about her; to conjure her face into his mind, the sound of her voice, her laugh. “I miss her.”

“She was a good friend to you.”

“She was,” he agreed. “She could have been to you as well.”

Kathryn gave a half-hearted shrug. “I don’t think so, Chakotay. There was too much between us for there to have been a friendship there. A camaraderie, maybe – almost, but something as deep as a friendship, no.”

“Why?” He knew a variation of her answer, but he asked anyway.

Kathryn stopped fiddling with the filamentous wires and looked at the tangle of them in her hand. “I think you know why. B’Elanna is volatile, and there was a lot of animosity I think because of everything that has happened over the last two years.”

“Because of us being lost," he filled in. "I don’t think she’s as upset about that as she was in the beginning. She calmed down once she truly realised that going back would have meant prison.”

“Still,” Kathryn looked down at him, her eyes visible now that the sun had temporarily given up its dominion. “There’s a lot of resentment.”

“Because-“

“Because I made her, and you,” her eyes were open, honest. “Your entire crew. I made them wear the uniform and obey to the rules of the organisation that abandoned them.”

“Kathryn,” he breathed out her name, his body for the moment completely effete. A silence laid between them, one that was heavy and pregnant with words unspoken since that day they had joined their crews into one. “What we decided to do that day was in-“

“My best interest.”

“Our,” he corrected her. “Everyone’s. It wouldn’t have worked – running Voyager both ways. We were coming to your ship, we rightly abided by your rules.”

“There should have been some sort of compromise,” Kathryn’s voice rose an octave, like it did when she was adamant. “Maybe then we wouldn’t have had as any problems…” She looked him in the eye again. “I didn’t give you or your crew much thought. I just-“

“Stop,” Chakotay filled his breath with the cooling air. “You did nothing wrong, Kathryn. You’re right, though; there was a lot of resentment among the Maquis in those first few months.”

Kathryn smiled, thinking about the garrulously cantankerous Chell. “Some more than others.”

“But we got over it.”

“We?” She looked at him. “You as well?”

He looked away from her and her smile disintegrated into a frown. “I think you know the answer to that Kathryn. After I left Starfleet four years ago, I never wanted to go back. As a boy, I was so, _so_ passionate about it: the vision – the mission. But after the Federation made that alliance, all for their own convenience, I became disillusioned. Maybe in retrospect, we should have left Dorvan and given it up. I always told my father and the elders of my people that it could happen, I just never expected that it would or that the Federation would let it.”

Kathryn gave a nod and choked on her next words. “Do you resent me for what I did?”

He answered her immediately, and without hesitation, “no. No one on my crew does. Not any more, at least. Well,” he gave a grim smile and thought of one in particular. “Except for Seska.”

“Seska,” Kathryn let her head fall against her shoulder with the thought of the Cardassian turncoat.

“But I don’t think she counts,” he tried for a genuine smile before he turned back to the laser projector on the floor.

“Yeah,” Kathryn similarly turned to the wires in her hand and resumed fixating them along the pattern she had figured along the wall, according the spaces they’d install the cabinets.

“Hey,” His voice was soft and she turned her head at the sound of it. “I feel you frowning.”

“You feel me frowning,” Kathryn gave him a suspicious look.

“Indian intuition,” he made a mystical gesture with his hands and made her laugh. “That’s better.”

Kathryn’s heart filled so quickly that in her chest she could nearly feel a sense of physical fullness. “What’s wrong?” She heard him ask.

“Nothing,” she shook her head and looked away from him. “You know if I finish putting the wires in the kitchen this evening, we can start moving the cabinetry over from the shelter by tomorrow.”

He looked back at her for a second. “I think we’re going down that too ambitious route again.”

Kathryn chuckled. “You’re right, but I’m like you – starting to get impatient.”

“Soon,” he told her. “Soon.”


	25. Chapter 25

“We need to start on and finish the roof today if at all possible,” Chakotay commented, thinking they’d made a poor decision to start the wiring before they’d laid the slabs he was cutting for the roof. 

Their day had passed too quickly and the bright yellow afternoon sun was starting to lay way to the oranges and reds of dusk. “It’s only two according to the chronometer,” she mused, walking over to where he was working. “The roof won’t take very long.” 

“No,” he said.  “But I have a feeling we should finish it before the day ends.” 

“Isn’t that a little too ambitious?” Kathryn poured some of the water in her canteen down her shirt to keep herself from overheating before she took a sip and let the cool water bathe her insides.

“I don’t think so,” he motioned to the piles of half logs that he’d cut and measured over the last day and a half. “I just have a feeling we should do it today.  The air feels heavier than it usually does – almost like it did before the storm.”

Kathryn let her shoulders drop as she looked up at the sky.  “You’re worried about rain.”

“Yes,” he nodded, taking a step back from his work and wiping the fat droplets of sweat off with the towel that he’d laid on his workstation.  “I don’t have to tell you that-“

“Rain and electronics don’t mix,” Kathryn rued. “You’re right.” She looked over at the cabin and then to the shuttle.  “I’ll get back in the shuttle and start placing the logs.” 

He nodded through a swig of cool water, appreciating the way it felt going down his throat.  “It won’t take us long.” 

“No,” Kathryn shook her head and turned back towards the shuttle.  “We should have thought about this ahead of time.”  

“We haven’t done anything wrong,” he conceded. “I’m only worried because of the humidity.  We haven’t had rain yet and even if it’s only another plasma storm, I don’t want our work to be ruined.”  

Kathryn nodded and took one last look at the modest structure before she turned towards the shuttle.  Once inside, she drew up the schematics and started inputting her data. 

They’d built the cabin with a solid skeleton of heavy beams, each one costing nearly an entire timber.  The walls were comprised of thinner cuts, but still sturdy nevertheless.  The roof would be composed of long solid slabs layered with one overlapping the other such that any rain or possibly snow would easily slough off of it.   The solar panels from the shelter would have to be removed and re-fitted, giving the house an ample and reliable source of energy. But that was work for another day.  

The tractor beam had been remarkably useful, Kathryn mused, as she started the shuttle’s engines and began the shallow ascent. Once in place hovering over the cabin, she watched as Chakotay positioned the ladder and waited. The first log transferred easily as she tractored it into the air, turned it, and laid it atop the most distal part of the home’s skeleton.  She watched as he drove long, thick nails, nearly beams themselves, into the wood several times over before moving along the house and securing the heavy pieces together.

In near silence, they worked efficiently over the course of the afternoon until the sun well and truly disappeared behind the evening clouds.  With the majority of the roof set, Kathryn the broke silence over the comm. with a yawn, feeling nearly guilty for doing so since he was the one who had done all of the manual labour. “Aren’t you tired?” She asked, nervous butterflies fluttering in her stomach while she watched him walk up on the roof, surveying what he’d done. 

“Exhausted,” he replied.  “But I wanted to get this finished.  I think this is good enough for today.” 

“I’m going to land the shuttle." 

“By all means,” this time he yawned. 

“I’m nervous about you walking on that roof.” 

“I’m perfectly fine,” he smiled at her worry as he made his way back down to the ladder and began his descent back down to solid ground.  “We got more done today than I anticipated.” 

“Mm,” she yawned again and landed the shuttle before powering it down.  Her legs had cramped from the rigoured position she’d assumed all day in the chair. It felt good to get out and stretch her legs as she walked towards the cabin as he walked around to meet her.

“What do you think?”  

“I think we should look inside,” she smiled, taking his hand as she rubbed her eyes. 

“Tomorrow I’ll make a proper door for us,” he said as they passed through the entry way into the home.  “It just didn’t feel like we needed one when we didn’t have a roof. That sounds silly.” 

“No,” she shook her head and squeezed his hand. “Oh, I think I’ll sleep well tonight.”

“Mmm,” this time he was the one who let out a yawn. “It finally feels like a home, don’t you think?” 

She nodded and led him around the space. “I’ve never had a home of my own before.” 

“Neither have I,” he agreed, tightening his grasp on her fingers.  “At least not one that I built and belonged to me.” 

The light from the shelter brightened automatically, though dimmer now that Kathryn had taken out half the light consoles from the walls.  But it was still enough to shine in through the kitchen windows and dimly illuminated the space. They stood for a while, in the centre of the modest living area, saying nothing as they looked on what their collective efforts had created. 

“Mark always wanted to buy a house with me,” Kathryn spoke out loud as she let go of his hand and walked through into the bedroom, looking at the space in the half-light. “But I didn’t see much point in us buying a home together, not when our lives were the way they were,” Kathryn looked out the large window that he’d installed a few days ago.  “He kept at me though. ‘ _Kath_ ,’ he’d say.  ‘ _When are you going to stop chasing the stars and settle down?’_ ”

Chakotay came to stand next to her, close enough so that he could feel the warmth of her body, but not too so that he was touching her.  “I just kept running, though,” Kathryn put her arms around herself.  “I never wanted to settle down.  There was _so much_ I wanted to see and experience, and I’ve done that, I think.  _I have_ , but there’s such finality to this here – our home.  _Our_ home.”

“I know,” he breathed, once again crestfallen for her; for the fact that he couldn’t make her happy.   

She turned to him suddenly, tired eyes adamant. “That’s not what I meant.” 

“Kathryn I _know_ you,” his eyes plead with her.  “I know this is difficult.”  

She took a step closer to him and put a hand on his arm.  “Chakotay,” his name was a whisper as she pulled him closer, wrapped herself in him, breathed in the smell of him, familiar to her now after days of long labour.  They stood there like that, long enough for the tension in his fatiguedly sore muscles to dissipate as he held her. He started to fall asleep that way, swaying this way and that as tired limbs held him up.  

Her deep inhalation against his chest roused him before he felt her tug on his hand and led him out back down the stone steps and across the soft grass, in front of the garden, and back into the their shelter. He followed her without thought, his feet treading on instinct. 

She kept her silence as she guided him, past their cluttered workspace and into her partition.  He hadn’t paid attention to where he was going, too tired to care or speak, he’d simply followed her until she was standing with him in front of her cot. Not bothering with removing any of her clammy clothing, she only slipped off her shoes and moved onto the bed, not letting go of his hand.  His lips were too tired to ask her – ask her why she’d brought him here, or tell her he should go, and walk the two paces to his own cot. So instead he simply followed her example, leaving his clothing be as he crawled onto the cramped bed with her.

He noted dimly how they both smelled, and how good it would feel to jump into the river and soap his body with a fragrant bar of soap.  But the notion was only fleeting, gone when he felt her wrap her arms around him and hold him close to her body. 

Filled with the peace that only Kathryn brought him, Chakotay didn’t speak, only tiredly whimpered his satisfaction as she held him close to her and fell asleep just as surely as her head hit the shared pillow.        


	26. Chapter 26

Kathryn woke the next morning to a recently familiar, fresh smell bleeding in through the shelter’s open windows.  They had shifted during the night so that she woke with her head pillowed on his chest and her arm wrapped securely around his waist. She felt his fingers tangled in her snarled ponytail, and she dreaded the moment when he would try to remove them.

The sound of the rain pelting against the sides of their shelter was comforting as she laid here with him in the morning overcast. “Mm,” he mumbled as she felt him turn, his fingers tangling further in the mess of her hair. His wakefulness lasted no longer than a few seconds, however, until he resumed his light snoring – a sound that should have been aggravating, but one that she now considered soothing as it rumbled lightly against her cheek.    

Kathryn looked around that the state of her partition. She had always taken a religiously fastidious pride in her penchant for neatness, but now found the pursuit all but meaningless. 

The few thin sheets that comprised her bedclothes laid messy on the floor, sonorously tangled around their discarded work shoes. Their collective meagreness contrasted with the thoughts of the comfortable blankets that she had in the stasis containers piled against the side of the shelter along with the remainder of their belongings that didn’t fit inside their tiny makeshift lodging. She thought of their future bed piled high with those same blankets and pillows, covering them on a morning like this while they watched the rain bleat down on the skylight. 

“And on the six day…” she hadn’t realised he’d stopped snoring until his voice rolled underneath her ear. “He rested.”

She smiled and respired a small laugh. “I could sleep all day.”

He smiled slightly, eyes still closed. “Why don’t we?” 

“Because…” Kathryn looked up and saw cheeky dimples. “We reek.”   

“That does present a problem.” 

“You’re not moving,” she leered, moving her hand up to his – the one that was tangled in her ponytail, and carefully unfurled it.

He nodded against the pillow and theatrically burrowed his backside against the mattress.  “I’m comfortable.” 

“Ouch,” She hissed when he finally removed his hand. “Well I’m squished against a wall.” 

“Sorry.”  

This time she glared at him.  “I need to wash my hair.” 

“I’m not keeping you.” 

His mock obstinacy brought a laugh despite her aggravation.  “You’re really not going to let me up?” 

“You can go at any time.” He opened his eyes and looked at her with a boyish grin and stared her down until she relented. 

“Fine,” she said, laying her head back down on his chest while they returned to their quiet repose.  “I never used to like days like this.” 

“I was never used to days like this,” his hand automatically returned to her hair, this time though, rather than tangling his fingers in it and hurting her, he settled for resting against the burnished, tangled strands.  “But I like them. Like this I like them.” 

“I wonder where they are right now,” Kathryn asked her inured question.  “If they’re thinking about us.”  

“I just hope they’re safe,” he breathed, looking up at her slit of a bedroom window and watching fat drops of rain adhere and then bead their way down.  

“I wonder if they’ll get home – how long it will take them, if they’ll find a shortcut.” 

“Maybe,” he sighed, wishing for the Maquis’ sake that their journey home wouldn’t be too swift so as to find themselves back where they started from: headed for prison." 

“You don’t sound enthusiastic,” Kathryn disentangled herself from around him and propped herself on her arm over him. “You don’t know that they’ll go to prison.” 

“Kathryn,” His voice pleads with sarcasm. “You were sent to capture us and bring us to Justice.  You know more than anyone that the Maquis were considered traitors.  And I think you know as well as I do that, if by some great chance, our crew gets back within the next five years, the Federation will throw them into prison for crimes against the Federation, or worse, hand them over to the Cardassians to maintain some semblance of peace.  You _know_ that, Kathryn. I know you know that because you went to a penal colony where you found Paris, who’d only been captured from our cell a few weeks earlier.” 

The breath left Kathryn’s lungs and she looked down, her eyes focusing in on an inconsequential dirt stain on his soft green t-shirt and she nodded quickly, acquiescing his truth.  “Did you ever want to go back, Chakotay?”

“No, Kathryn, not for myself. But for you…” he took a breath and exhaled heavily.  “For you, I wanted to get home more than anything.  I would have done – _still would do -_ _anything_ to give that to you.” 

Tears crowded and built pressure behind her eyes before they brimmed over the edges and made wet trails down her cheeks. “It wasn’t two weeks before I left that Admiral Paris called me into his office and told me the rumour that Headquarters was considering giving me the mission to go after you. He said he’d heard it from a high up source that the rest of the Admiralty was impressed with me; they wanted me to prove my mettle and had thought no better way to do that than to send me to capture you.  It was to be a great victory if I captured you and brought you to justice.  He said Edward would have been proud that his little girl had been given such an honour.”  Her voice turned gravelly, she savoured the feeling of Chakotay’s fingers wiping the saline sadness from her cheeks.  His fingers, she thought, should have been rough from all the work that he’d been doing. Instead, though, they were impeccably soft, and she gently held them against her skin and cherished their warmth. “Owen knew how much I wanted to make daddy proud; I think he knew how much I wanted to make _him_ proud.  After everything that we’d shared, I looked up to him, and I didn’t want to disappoint him any more than I did own father.”

“Just like Owen predicted, I was called into the briefing room at Headquarters not twenty four hours later and given my commission, and Voyager.  Go to the Badlands, they said, find the Maquis and bring him back.  I asked them what I was to do when I found you and your crew. Hayes looked at me pointedly, ‘ _detain them. They’re criminals, Kathryn, and they’re dangerous.’”_

Chakotay listened silently while she continued her story.  “I went back to my Starfleet apartment that afternoon, sat down in front of my console, and I studied you.  I learned everything about you: your service record, your teaching syllabi, your official logs… everything.  I don’t remember sleeping much for those two weeks; I became obsessed with your words, with getting inside your mind…”

He smiled and huffed a small chuckle at her words, not having known any of this previously.  But still he said nothing, and waited patiently for her to continue.

Kathryn turned herself slightly, her smaller body practically on top of his as she made herself comfortable again in the cramped space. “Mark started complaining that he never saw me anymore, but I ignored him,” she half smiled. “I just sat there, with Molly curled at my feet, and I studied.  My mother used to call and tell me to eat,” she huffed a laugh and rolled her eyes fondly at the remembrance before her voice returned to its former solemness. “What I didn’t tell anyone, not even myself, was that I started falling in love in the silliest and most devastating way with you and your words. I started seeing you as a hero who gave up everything for the people that he loved.  And every day that I spent surrounded by those padds, I became less and less convinced that what the Federation was doing was right.”

She’d kept her eyes on that same spot on his shirt for the duration of her anecdote before she looked up at him, shy now that her admission had been committed to the finality of the air between them. “So yes, I know what would have happened if I apprehended you, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to fight for you.”

The breath left his lungs in a whoosh as his hand meandered softly down her side, settling warmly on her hip. He leaned up away from the pillow and drew her down to him to kiss her cheeks – once on either side before her forehead. Her eyes were closed when his lips slanted over hers.  He kissed her with both passion and gratitude, tracing his tongue over her teeth, stealing the breath from her lungs. 

She was smiling when he pulled away, her position still the same with her eyes closed.  “Thank you for telling me that,” he said softly when she’d opened her eyes.

“It’s true.” 

Exaggerated dimples dented his sharp cheeks, “Every word?”  

“Yes,” Her bright smile mirrored his and she thumped her hand against his chest.  “Every word.”  

The sweet grin that decorated his visage wouldn’t let up, and she couldn’t look away from him until the sun shone in through the slitted window.  “The sun is out.”

He tapped his palm gently against her hip and moved out from under her.  “I think,” he looked back and bathed himself in the warmth bleeding in through the window. “That we should go down to the river.” 

“Mm,” she nodded and followed him out of bed and crouched down beside the foot of the cot to burrow for her towel and soap. “We should check and see how well the roof did with the rain.  If my wiring survived…”

“Fingers crossed,” she heard him say from behind the plexiglass before he reappeared before her with his own toiletries. “Ready to go?”

She smiled and put her hand in his. “Let’s go.” 


	27. Chapter 27

Kathryn breathed her lungs full of the fresh, slightly humid air. “This has to be the perfect temperature.” 

“Mm,” Chakotay surveyed the foliage in front of him as he dropped his dirty clothes into a pile before he happily stepped into the warm water. 

“I still think it’s amazing how there aren’t that many fish here,” Kathryn observed, tracing the little pebbles with her toes, feeling how nice the texture felt against the arches of her feet. “I wonder if there are many in the lakes and oceans.” 

“Maybe,” Chakotay lazily soaped his body, appreciating the clean scent wash away the odour that sat on his skin after yesterday’s toil. “I was thinking…” he trailed off as his legs languidly carried him into deeper waters and washed away the pearlescent bubbles from his darkened skin. 

“You’re always thinking,” Kathryn grinned, imagining the look on his face when he was deep in thought. 

He smiled and moved his arms in half circles, treading water as he moved out further, listening to the hummed noises she was making as she washed her hair. “I was thinking that we could build a boat and explore more of the river.” 

“One project at a time,” She chuckled. “After we get done building the cabin, I’m taking at least a week off of mandated rest before starting anything new.” 

Chakotay smiled and ducked his head under the clear water before treading back up to shore for his shampoo. “Can’t argue with that. It’ll be good to have the cabin finished.” 

Kathryn nodded and waded her way out further like he had done a moment ago. “I can’t argue with you there.” 

It felt good to massage the fragrant shampoo through the long strands of her hair, feeling the grease and grime let loose from the maelstrom. Her fingers worked in quick, decisive circles on the strands all the way from her scalp until the tips until finally the white jumble felt air-light and her arms started to tire. She held her breath and sank beneath the clear water, running her fingers through the mess and tangling them in the knots she knew her harried movements would inevitably create. Thick threads tangled around her and for a moment a fleeting thought occurred to her. 

“I should cut my hair,” she said with the first breath she took after she ascended for air. 

“Cut it?” His soft tone was audibly wounded. 

She laughed when she heard his boyishly shy and apprehensive voice. “Don’t worry,” Kathryn placated. “I can’t tell you how many times over the years I’ve threatened to cut it, but…” She shrugged as she made her way back to the bank of the river and muddied her freshly cleaned feet in the soft sand as she reached for her dry towel. “I never do.”

“I like it long,” she heard him say, his voice slightly muffled by the towel she pictured running over his face. “My sister had long hair. It went all the way down her back, like yours. And it was so black that in the right light it looked nearly aubergine. I remember, we had a water shower in our house with an old fashioned drain and I always used to find her hair tangled in it.” 

“We had one too,” Kathryn smiled at the memory. “Phoebe used to leave hers on the shower wall. It would drive me crazy!” 

He was still turned around, laughing, when he asked her, “Are you ready to head back?” 

“Uh huh,” she was wrapped in a towel when turned to her. Despite the intimacy shared between them, there was still an unspoken decorum to bathing time in which they gave one another a certain modicum of privacy. 

He finally turned and smiled, finding her still fussing at her hair when he bent to pick up her basket of toiletries. 

She looked at him, relinquishing her attention to the sight in front of her and observed how the work had whittled his body down – chiselling his features; the work-battered and ripped cargo shorts sat lower on his hips than they usually did and hip bones jutted all the more prominently. 

He rouged under her careful scrutiny. “Um,” He smiled and tugged on his ear lobe with his free hand. 

She met his eyes guiltily. “I’m not feeding you enough.” 

He chuckled and reached for her hand. “I eat enough; it’s you I’m worried about.” 

“Me?” Kathryn gave him a look and took his hand, wrapping their fingers together as she slipped on the sandals at her feet. 

“Yes you,” he squeezed her hand and gave it a tug as he headed down the inured path back to the shelter. “I always worry about you.” 

She rolled her eyes and smiled, holding the knot of her towel up with her free hand as they walked the well-travelled path back to the shelter. In the comfortable silence that lay between them, Kathryn catalogued the quiet serenity around them; the muffled sounds of the birds that habitated this portion of the forest, the warmth of the air against her drying skin that goose-pimpled with the slightest of breezes. 

Kathryn took another deep breath as they approached the clearing and felt his fingers squeeze hers. She looked up at him and caught a personally familiar smile as he looked down at her. “What?” She asked. 

“Nothing,” he exhaled, his voiced laced with a gratefulness that words couldn’t express, before he tugged at her hand again as they walked back into the shelter. 

He let of her when she pulled away and disappeared behind her enclosure. “I should finish the wiring today,” she said, her voice slightly muffled as she pulled a fresh shirt on over her head. “The rest of it won’t be too hard. The only problem is that we won’t have any lighting in the shelter’s kitchen…” 

“That’s not such a bad thing,” he replied. “We don’t spend much time here anymore other than for sleeping.” 

Kathryn nodded a silent reply as she bent down and threw her sheets and blankets back on the small cot - an object she looked forward to discontinuing in the future. “I was going to start installing the bedroom doors,” he continued. “What do you want for breakfast?” 

“Toast, please,” Kathryn said, emerging from behind the partition with her hands behind her head, occupied in the process of a French braid. 

“And coffee?” 

“Of course! I can’t believe you have to ask,” she glinted, sitting down at their workspace. 

“Just making sure,” he turned and smiled at her, placing the inured mug of coffee in her waiting hands. “That you didn’t want tea instead.” 

She laughed, giving him a humourously chagrined smirk and took a sip, “blasphemer.” 

“One of these days,” he turned back towards the replicator and produced a plate of buttered toast. “I’ll make you see that tea isn’t so bad.” 

“No thank you,” Kathryn hadn’t realised how hungry she was until the scent of the warm bread rose to meet her. “I’m perfectly satisfied with my caffeine addiction.”

He smiled palpable dimples and sat down across from her with his own plate of toast. “I was going to start on the bedroom doors today.” With one hand occupied with his toast, he turned on the console on the table and looked over his plans again, juxtaposing them with the progress he’d made on the shelter. “And if your wiring can spare you, I’ll need your help installing them. It shouldn’t take too long…” 

Kathryn took her plate and moved to sit beside him so that she could look at the screen. “Of course,” she said. 

“Once that’s finished, I’ll start on the bathroom. I can use the transporter to move the tub, then we just have to figure out plumbing for it.” 

“That won’t be a problem,” Kathryn zoomed into the living space, onto which the bedroom doors opened. “We’ll have to move the cabinetry in piecemeal.”

He nodded and gave an absent look to the room around them. “We don’t have too much else…”

“No,” Kathryn exhaled, her back sagging a little bit as she finished her meal and took a hefty sip of her lukewarm coffee. “Not too much else…” 

“What are you thinking about?” She heard him ask, so softly that his voice was nearly a whisper. 

“Nothing…” she smiled crookedly and looked up at him. “Everything. The crew, Voyager, our life here…” 

He gave a nod and looked at her with familiar, understanding eyes. “They’ll be all right, Kathryn.” 

She gave a nod and stood, collecting his plate and hers to recycle the pair of them. “I know.” 

He stood up behind her, a reassuring presence as she turned back to face him, now standing so close as to feel the heat off his body. Her eyes were level with his chest and she raised her hand to lay it over his heart. Her lungs took in another breath of warm air and she let a real smile creep over her features as his hand came up and tangled with her fingers. “Let’s try and finish early,” Kathryn enjoyed the feeling of his fingers tangled with hers. 

“Okay.” 

His eyebrows raised in a silent question that was answered by a schemingly devious smile. “Let’s get to work.”


	28. Chapter 28

They spent the great majority of their day in seclusion, something that did nothing to palliate Kathryn’s overactive curiosity. 

That morning, soon after their brief breakfast, she’d helped him with the double doors that opened from their bedroom onto the living area, and after that, he’d closed the finely crafted panels behind himself and disappeared with a brief thanks. 

During her short-lived treks to and from the shelter to the cabin, she heard him alternating his use of the phaser and the old-fashioned steel saw that he’d replicated all those weeks ago. Her neck turned to the side every time she heard something fall, wondering if he’d finally come out and ask for her opinion. But he didn’t… and the only response to her questions was the constant din of the drill or nail gun firing against the side of the wall. 

She was tempted to knock on the new door, perhaps accidentally push her palm down on the ornate handle and test the hinges… But every time her knuckles cocked into place to follow through with her imagined plans, she thought better and walked away; he would come to her on his own terms with that same tickled look of youthful excitement that lit up his eyes when he’d made something for her. 

Stepping back into the shelter for what seemed the hundredth time that day, Kathryn smiled at what a mess it had turned into. Wires stood exposed from panels that she’d pried off the walls. “It’s the house that Jack built,” she smirked, remembering a saying her mother used to use. 

Itchy fingers pawed at the last light on the wall, disconnecting it from its power source before disarranging its associated components into an organised pile on the floor. “Well, Kathryn,” she bent her knees and gathered the mess in her hands before she heard a new noise coming from the cabin. “Chakotay?” 

She stepped outside to find him coming down the steps of the cabin. “Hi!” He waved as he walked towards her, amused by the look that painted her face. “You can’t stand it can you?” He smiled, cheekily recalling his words from months ago when she badgered him about the bathtub. 

She scowled through a smile and shook her head, wires falling in all an array from te mess in her arms. “What are you up to?” 

“It’s a secret,” was his inured answer. 

She moved so that her feet were spaced wider apart – she was going to find out even if she had to wheedle. “Tell me.” 

“Soon,” he glinted, walking past her into the shelter. “And don’t try and look!” He called after her. 

That same glower followed her back into the cabin as her eyes examined the far wall behind which had cloistered himself. “A secret,” she huffed, stepping back up to the ladder with the last sconce. “It’s always a damn secret….” 

“But a good one,” he promised, walking unexpectedly up behind her and planting a light kiss on her cheek, making her turn suddenly. 

“Tell me.” 

“No, Kathryn,” he smiled exaggerated dimples, like a boy with a deviously delicious little secret. “Tonight I’ll show you. Maybe…” And with that he opened the door and quickly disappeared behind it again, leaving her standing there with a classic scowl on her pursed red lips. 

The clamour kept up for the rest of the afternoon, only fuelling her inquisitiveness. She disciplined herself, though, and instead of fixating on the unknown, she spent her time moving the contents of the shelter’s kitchen into the cabin. 

They worked on in parallel until the sky darkened. It was around the time that the sun set that she realised that the constant noise he was making had hushed to a point that she wondered if she was all alone. 

On return from her last trip from the shelter, the lock on the door unclicked and he stepped out into the room, now bathed in a comforting light bleeding off from the sconces on the wall. She smiled at him, rumpled and sweaty from the work he’d been up to all day in the overheated room in which he’d isolated himself. 

He smiled back at her. “Well?” She asked. “Are you going to show me?” 

“Maybe,” He teased only to get a rise before holding out his hand, which she crossed the room in great, exaggerated strides to take his warm fingers. “It looks nice in here,” Chakotay commented on the work that she’d done. 

Kathryn only eyed him. “Are you going to show me?” She repeated. 

“Yes!” He laughed. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re relentless?” 

“I’ve been called worse,” she pursed her lips like she did when she was getting aggravated. “Well?” 

Filled with affection for the woman at his side, he took a breath and, with a flourish, opened the doors in front of them. 

Soft lights on the wall coupled with the scant dusk light bleeding in from the sky light at the ceiling met her tired eyes and illuminated the space for her. She stood wide-eyed, looking on at the work that he’d done. The room was spacious enough for the skeleton of a bed that stood underneath a generous window that overlooked the tree-covered mountains in the distance. “You did all of this today?” Her rhetorical question was whispered in shock. 

He walked up behind her as she ran her fingers over the substantial bedframe. “I want to finish,” Chakotay told her. “You haven’t seen the bathroom yet.” 

She took a breath, inhaling the woody scent that permeated the air and mingled with the evening-cool air bleeding in from the open window that he’d covered all day with a sheet, expertly hiding his work from her curious eyes. “You made me a skylight.”

“You told me you wanted one,” was his soft reply. 

Kathryn turned back to him, letting her backside lean against the sturdy bed. “I didn’t think you’d actually make one.” 

“Why?” he smiled, standing squarely in front of her as she looked up at him. 

Kathryn took another breath and reached for his hand. “Thank you, Chakotay. This is… exquisite.” 

“You still haven’t seen the bathroom,” he repeated and nodded towards the closed door, pulling at her hand until she followed him. “I still haven’t moved anything into it. I thought we might move the bathtub in tonight.” The lights worked on a sensor and illuminated as soon as the door opened to reveal a large room with another set of skylights. “Well?” 

Kathryn crossed the substantial room. “I couldn’t have imagined this,” she said. “Even from the plans… I didn’t think…” She trailed off. “This is our home,” the words tumbled out as if it was the first time she was realising the truth she’s spoken many times now about the space. “This is my home with you.” 

“Yes,” he smiled at the reverence with which she spoke her words. “This is our home.” 

“Our bathroom,” she turned to him with a soft look, crossing the room before she passed back into the bedroom and stood again at the head of the bedframe. “Our bed...” Her voice was nervous as she traced the lines again as the notion sank down on her, heavy with the gravity those two words purveyed. 

Again he followed over to her. “Kathryn,” his shoulders sank. “We don’t... have to do this.” 

“What?” Confusion crossed her face as she suddenly turned to him. 

He looked away from her, playing with his hands and brushing the scant dirt from his dry palms. “We don’t have to do this, Kathryn.” 

“Chakotay,” she whispered his name and took his rigidly tonic hands in hers, working her fingers to break up his rigoured palms. 

He hadn’t kept track of time since the ship had left. “Four months,” He counted in his head the months they’d been here. 

“What?” 

“We’ve been here a little over four months,” he said, meeting her eyes with sadness that she’d never seen painting his dark, beautiful irises. 

“Yes,” she nodded. 

“You weren’t ready for this, Kathryn.” 

“For what?” 

“This,” he huffed, freeing his hand to motioned around the room they stood in. “All of this. Us. This house. Any of it.” 

“What?” She made a face, the painting of confusion. “What’s this about, Chakotay?” 

Ashamed, he looked away from her again. “I don’t want this to be about your being lonely, or the fact that I’m the only man on this whole goddamn planet!” 

“What,” Kathryn’s temper was rising. “In the world, are you talking about? Where is this coming from, Chakotay?” 

Deflated in a moment when faced with her classic ire, he hung his head in shame. “I don’t know, Kathryn… I’m worried that you’ll resent me if we run headlong into this.” 

Aggravated, Kathryn let her head fall into her hands before her frustration dissolved into laughter, drawing his confusion. 

“Kathryn?” He looked at her with guarded eyes. 

She only shook her head in response, reaching again for his hand and tangling her fingers in his and pulling his towards her before wrapping his arms around her laughter-stiffened body. 

Moments after further laughter, Kathryn pulled away, wiped her wetted eyes, and looked up at him. “What?” He asked frankly. 

She smiled again in response to his scowl. “Nothing,” she shook her head, reaching up to kiss his cheek. 

“Something,” he countered. “Tell me.” 

She exhaled a deep breath. “When Voyager left, I thought my life was over. And I was angry. I was angry with myself, at you, the circumstances that had led us here to this godforsaken quadrant…

For those first few weeks, I prayed for a miracle and I thought that miracle was us being able to leave here. I had this whole plan that I’d find a cure for us before the ship moved out of communications range – that my science would save us. But after the storm, when my work was washed away, something happened…” 

Keeping hold of her hand, he sat next to her on the bedpost. “You’ve done so much for me, Chakotay. Me, who was your enemy, sent to capture you at the behest of the very people that had made the deaths of your family possible.” 

“Kathryn,” he exhaled. “I don’t-“ 

A finger met his lips before his next words escaped. “Just let me finish,” she said. “I don’t think I’ll ever be happy about the fact that I’ll never make it home; that I’ll never see my mother or Phoebe again. And I don’t think I’ll ever not think about the fact that the people that I stranded so far from home have to make their journey back without me, but I’m not sorry that I’m here with you – that my life is going to be with you. Does that make sense?” 

“Yes,” he ran his fingers over her the frayed braid that held her long hair. “Yes, it makes sense.” 

She smiled and quickly kissed his upturned lips. “I’ve dreamt of this,” she breathed and took another look around the space around them. “Since all those months ago, I dreamt of this.” 

“Tell me again,” he whispered into the dimness of night. 

“I dreamt of laughter," she said to him, meeting his eyes. "I dreamt of loving you."


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone leaving comments and kudos. chapters might be slower to come for the month of July as I have 2 big exams coming up. But after that we should be back in business. Thank you, so much, my dear friends!  
> Becca

When he smiles, she thinks of a little boy – the way his temples rouge at her words, and the nervous dimples that indent the angled space of his cheeks. His irresistible grin foments one of hers and in a moment she finds the urge to press her lips to his vainly insurmountable. 

And so she does, stepping one tiny foot-length closer to him, standing flush against him as he leans one hip against the foot of their bed. Her small hand moves up his chest, feeling sinewy quality of the muscles under his soft t-shirt. His eyes are inscrutably black in the dim light, with tired pupils broadened to their widest circumference. The breath from his almost-parted lips is sweet, fresh, addicting and it draws her like a pole of a magnet. 

His hands move up her delicate sides, shakily now after the words she bestowed upon him a moment ago – awestruck that he merits the love of such a woman. “Me,” he whispers, eyes wandering over her delicate features. “You dreamt of me.” 

“Yes,” her lips are so close to his, nearly touching now as she breathes his air. “I dream of you.” 

He kisses her then – taking her lips like he hasn’t let himself before. Her mouth opens easily under his, her tongue running over his palate, teeth, before he chases her down and does the same. Their position is too inhibitory, he thinks as he moves her back to lean against the post of the bed. 

She grows more impatient at the feel of him, and her hands mirror this frustration as they seek out the soft skin under his t-shirt, sighing when she finds it. His fingers are the same and follow her example a moment later; bringing another contented exhalation before she pulls away and giggles at the sensation. 

“Ticklish,” she says, trying to catch her breath. “I shouldn’t have told you that.” 

“I have a feeling I’d find out anyways,” he grins. 

“Yes,” Amused, she nods, letting her hands fall back down his bare sides just as his rest on the soft skin of her hips. 

His fingers give the barest hint of a squeeze and force her to look at him again. “It’s getting late.” 

Like clock work, a yawn leaves her lips when she registers how black the sky has turned in the moments they’ve been occupied. He chuckles, thinking her amusing before the catchable phenomenon stretches his lips, too. 

They stand a few moments more, watching one another, while her fingers run warmly on his skin. “Why?” He asks finally, softly. 

“Why what?” 

“Why do you dream of me?” 

She smiles kindly at him and turns her head to cogitate on the answer. “Because one day I started and I couldn’t stop.” 

He huffs a laugh and drops his gaze to where her hands disappear under her shirt, making her fingers move in small circles, stirring an already gently simmering arousal. “That doesn’t answer my question.” 

“I told you why, Chakotay,” she says to him before removing her hands and searching for his fingers to tangle with her own. 

When they leave the room the lights turn off automatically, leaving the home in further darkness. For the moment he’s content to be silent and follow her back to their shelter, an abode that will soon become obsolete. She treads the same path back, glad she memorised it now that it way is darker. 

The shelter feels empty now, and for a moment that notion brings a hint of sadness. This has been their home, and even now that they’ve a better one, she still childishly harbours a sentimental fondness towards it. The feeling makes her think of when she was a girl and had the habit of anthropomorphising her playthings. 

“What?” He squeezes her hand as she rounds the sharp corner into her enclave and lies down on the tiny bed. Like the night before, she still hasn’t let go of his hand and pulls him down with her. 

“Did I say something?” She doesn’t remember. 

“No,” he lies down beside her, and as soon as his head hits the pillow he’s suddenly tired and a yawn escapes. “But tell me.” 

“How do you do that?” 

He smiles into the darkness, unable to see the leer that he hears. “What?” 

“Read my mind,” her hand thumps his chest. 

“I don’t,” that laughter dies down into a bubbling amusement. After a pregnant silence he reneges, “it’s in the way you breathe, sometimes.” 

She glares up at him into the darkness as she wraps her arms around his middle. Against her leg she can feel his subtle arousal, and the thought sends sticky wetness to pool at the apex of her thighs. But it’s not for tonight. For now they want to savour the prelude; there’ll be time enough when he finishes the bed. “I didn’t know I was so transparent." 

His arm reflexively twines underneath her ribcage to wrap around her body, holding her close to him. ““You are many things, Kathryn Janeway. Transparent isn’t one of them.” 

“Maybe not to others,” the sound of his heart is reassuring under her ear. “But I am to you. I was thinking about how sad I am to leave this shelter.” 

“I thought the same. It’s been our home, however inconvenient and,” he repositions the pillow higher so the head of the bed isn’t cutting into his neck. “Uncomfortable.” 

She lets a soft breath of entertainment leave her nostrils in a huff. “Mm.” 

A silence stretches between them, one growing heavy with sleep. He thinks she’s already fallen into oblivion before he hears her voice again. “Chakotay?” 

“Mm,” He nods heavily and his head falls against her hair, filling his nose directly with the pleasant scent that he associates with her. “What, Kathryn?” 

She smiles sleepily, hugging him closer until no air insinuates itself between them while she wraps her leg securely around his. “Nothing,” she kisses his neck and breathes him in. “Goodnight.”


	30. Chapter 30

When he woke the next morning, she was gone. It was only the second night they’d spent in the same bed, but nevertheless the cramped twin mattress felt empty without her.

His eyelids, he found, were leaden with every muscle in his body hampered and screaming for release. “Ohh— _ouch!_ ” The back of his head bumped against the wall just as his toe stubbed against the short foot of the bed. _“Ugh,”_ he let himself roll off the little mattress, thinking its discomfort hadn’t been so apparent the nights and morning before.

The air in the shelter was stagnant, humid, like the air outside and he was left wondering where the gloriously cool weather of a few mornings before had disappeared to.

“Kathryn?” His voice was craggy; his throat parched for water.

“Chakotay?” He heard her outside the shelter’s door before he saw her. “I was wondering when you’d wake up,” her voice was as light as the effervescent grin that tugged at the corners of her lips.

“What time is it?” He asked before chugging the half-full glass of water on the table.

The smile on her face made him think she was up to something as she stood there and watched him. “Not late…”

“What?” He asked, voice clearer now after the beverage. “You’re up to something.”

Kathryn pointed theatrically towards herself with a duplicitous grin, “Me?”

“Yes you,” he laughed, looking squarely at her before noticing what he hadn’t before; even more of the items in the shelter were now missing. All of their collective trinkets had been removed from their shelves, blankets from the enclave, and the walls were laid bare albeit the cabinets affixed to them.

“I need help moving the cabinetry,” she filled his thoughts in for him. “I moved the rest while you were sleeping. I was waiting for you to wake up so I could show you.”

With a jovial roll of his eyes and crossed the room and took her hand. “Show me.”

“You know you could have waited,” he squeezed the slight fingers in his twice. “I would have helped.”

“I know,” their joined hands swung between them as they walked the short paths between their two homes. “But I wanted to surprise you.”

A breath of affectionate amusement passed his lips and he pressed her hand again. “Payback for the night before?”

“No,” She laughed, shaking her head. “I take my revenge in other ways.”

This time he gave more than a breath and laughed from the bottom of his belly. “Somehow I don’t doubt that. Look at the garden,” he pointed.

“I know,” She smiled at their creation. “It’s growing more than Talaxian tomatoes now.”

“We can replicate more seeds,” he thought out loud. “Maybe some squashes, lettuce… we could think about planting apple trees…”

“Anything we wanted,” She mused as they climbed the stairs into the home and entered through the open door.

He stopped short when he entered, not unlike she had the other night when he showed her his work. “Kathryn.”

She let her head fall forward in an almost self-effacing chuckle as she walked around her work. “I thought it’d be fun surprising you this time.”

He shook is head in half awe, half amusement, as he walked around the furniture that she’d arranged in the main room. “How did you…?”

“The transporter,” she squared her shoulders and crossed her arms over her breasts in triumph. “We were never going to get all of it in by hand,” she looked around them at the sofa and two chairs that looked nearly too good to be anything that Starfleet produced. “Especially through the door.”

He walked around and ran his hand over the couch, one that looked dubiously similar to the one in his and Kathryn’s quarters on board the ship. “I think it was left over after they changed out the furniture in my quarters,” she answered his unspoken question. “I asked Tuvok to beam it down with the rest of our things when I knew that we might be here for a while.”

“That was prescient,” he smiled. “I knew by looking at the stasis unit that whatever was in there was going to be too big to fit inside the shelter.”

“What can I say?” She plopped herself down on the cushion and fanned her arms out behind her head in a look of gloated triumph. “I think ahead.”

Chakotay took a few more moments to savour the work she’d done. “It looks wonderful, Kathryn,” he sighed, looking at the pieces she’d hung on the wall – some of her artwork from her quarters on board the ship alongside some of the sand paintings he’d done during their first few weeks here. “Thank you.”

She smiled wider and pulled at his hand so that he sat next to her. “You’re welcome.”

“You’ll have to make a table,” she stretched her feet out in front of her and made him laugh when she wriggled her toes in unspoken request.

“One project at a time.”

“Speaking of projects,” she nodded towards the skeleton of a bed visible just behind the cracked bedroom doors.

“Soon,” he promised, kissing her cheek before he laid his back against the accommodating sofa cushion. “Soon, Kathryn.”

Again he lapsed into a grateful taciturnity, folding his fingers with hers and marvelled that this was their home. “We still have to move the cabinets,” she prattled. “And the workspace, and then we can start putting the shelter back into the stasis units.”

Chakotay smiled and nodded. “I’ll help you with that tomorrow, after I finish. Kathryn?”

“Hm?”

“Do you ever wonder?”

She turned to him, fingers leaving his to trace up the solidity of his arm and thumb the soft, lengthened strands of his hair. “Do I ever wonder what?”

“If,” he turned to her and took a wistful breath. “It was spring time in San Francisco, and the war had never started; you were picking up your coffee at the Night Owl, I was behind you…”

Kathryn started to laugh at the look in his eyes, “ _boy meets girl_ , Chakotay?”

“Something like that,” He chuckled.

“Go on,” she nodded at him.

“You’re in front of me at the Night Owl, and we’re both waiting at the till for them to prepare our drinks.”

“Ah ah!” Kathryn cut the air with her hand theatrically to stop him. “You don’t drink coffee, Chakotay. This story’s already flawed.”

He made a mock-stern look and nudged her, drawing another round of laughter. “Just go with it.”

“Okay.”

“I drink coffee, okay, just not as… intensely as you do.”

“Fair enough,” Still grinning, she held her hands up in surrender. “I can count on my hands the times you’ve had coffee and you’ve always soiled it with cream and sugar.”

She sees him bite the inside of his lip and stifle the urge to roll his eyes. “Okay, okay!” Kathryn falls against him in her amusement. “Keep going.”

Chakotay’s bow lips twisted into the most irresistible pout. “I’m not going to keep going if you keep on interrupting me.”

“I won’t,” Holding back her laughter, Kathryn tried her best to look earnest. “I promise I won’t keep pointing out your inaccuracies.”

“They’re not-!“ Chakotay’s expression made her laugh again. “Do you want to hear the story?”

“Yes,” She fought the mirth at her lips and made a shaky frown before she cleared her throat. “Keep going.”

“Now I’ve lost my train of thought.”

“I’m sorry,” Kathryn kissed his cheek in attrition. “Keep going.”

“Well, as I was saying,” he cleared his throat and settled his backside into the sofa. “What if-“

“You want to know what would’ve happened if we’d just met- just us,“ she rushed. “You and me, without anything like the Delta Quadrant or the conflict, or the fact that I’d been sent to capture you...”

“Yes,” He breathed, eyes warm with her, chuckling at her antics.

“Well,” she sat back and took her hand from his as she folded her legs underneath her. “The barista working that day would have been Joy. Joy never got my name right, or she’d put it on the wrong cup and I’d end up with a Naerian latte – something you’d like, no doubt,” she mock glowered. “It’s sickeningly sweet.”

“I’d like it then,” he smiled big, fresh-faced dimples. “Tell me more.”

“You’d pick up my cup,” Kathryn continued. “Take one sip and almost spit it out because it’d be too bitter.” He laughed at the image she offered. “I’d take one sip of mine and do the same. You’d ask me if I’d ordered black coffee, and I’d nod and ask you if you ordered the cup of sugar. Then I might’ve noticed your instructors rank bar and asked you what you taught.”

“I would have told you I’d explain over dinner.”

 _“Flirt!_ ” Kathryn laughed. “Remember I’d still be engaged to Mark.”

“You’d tell me that,” he winked. “I still would have asked you to dinner, or at least coffee.”

Kathryn’s head fell back against the back of the sofa, her stomach nearly hurting at this point from laughing. “Chakotay!”

He took her hand again. “That’s not true. I would have nodded, maybe been a little disappointed, taken my coffee, and left-“

“But before you did,” Kathryn looked up at him with crystal blue eyes. “I would’ve told you to wait, asked you to sit down and finish your coffee with me. Maybe we would’ve started meeting more often.”

“What about Mark?”

“Now,” She looked squarely at him. “Or then.”

“Both…” he breathed, looking back at the unfinished frame just visible from their vantage point. “Now. Before I finish.”

She looked away from him and dropped her shoulders. “That’s complicated.”

“Why?”

She shook her head and thought of the man whose face she couldn’t conjure anymore – even his apparition’s. “Mark promised me he wouldn’t wait. I made him promise, and I know he won’t.”

He shook his head, trying to reconcile the passionate woman in front of him with the one he imagined from their conversation; knowing how much she loved and how deeply, he couldn’t imagine her being with a man who wouldn’t die waiting for her. “I loved Mark,” She continued. “I did. I loved him. But my love for him was different. I’ve known Mark since I was fourteen,” she laughed in spite of herself at the memory her mind had brought to the fore. “Did you know that when we were teenagers, he tried to get a date with Phoebe? He settled for one with me after she turned him down, and we went from there. Mark became my best friend for a long time, and I think somewhere along the way, I fell in love with him. I believe I did. But I realise now that my love for him was much like a love for a brother. We didn’t’ mind being apart, not making love, I didn’t think of him when he wasn’t with me... But he’s a good man; he took good care of Molly, and he checks in on my mother. But Mark isn’t going to wait for me, Chakotay, and I never expected him to.”

The breath left his lungs as his torso stooped forward so his elbows rested on his knees. “What?” Her hand reached for his again and found it readily open to hers.

“What’s changed?” He said finally. “In the last year, what’s changed?”

Kathryn looked confused as she looked at him. “What’s changed?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “A year ago, when I found two ensigns kissing in the turbolift, I asked you if-“

“I remember,” Kathryn nodded, folding her hands together in thought. “You asked me if I would eventually pair off like the rest of the crew.”

“Yes. You told me you didn’t have that luxury. You told me,” he let out a breath and finished quietly. “That you were waiting to get home to Mark.”

“What else was I supposed to say, Chakotay?” She asked him squarely.

He shrugged, unsure. “I don’t know, Kathryn, I just -”

“We’d barely been gone a year at that point,” She shot. “And I was still hoping we would find a way home – some wormhole, an anomaly, _something_ , however remote. What else could I have said, Chakotay? I was the captain of a ship that I stranded 70,000 light years from home. It was hardly the time to think about romance!”

A tense silence settled, one heavy with the expectation between them. “Kathryn,” her name was whispered reverently on the breath that left his chest. “I think you know that I’m in love with you. I have been for a while now. When I first met you it was this hazy, unformed,” he motioned uncertainly with his hands. “Sort of obsession and I couldn’t stop thinking about you, looking at you, wanting to please you…” he stopped with a chuckle, seeing the girlish smile that had spread across her face.

“And when I asked that stupid question, I don’t know I was stupidly hoping that maybe you’d say yes.”

Kathryn nodded briskly and her smile was warm and wistful. “I know.”

A deep breath expanded her ribcage and she took his hand again, and with her other she turned his head, making him look at her again, noting the sweetly nervous frown at his soft lips. “Things are different now, Chakotay.”

His grin mirrored hers and in a moment he took her lips, softly, sweetly, before he asked the question again.


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone, again, for your kindness!

“I thought I had more than this,” she said to herself, looking meagrely at the wrinkled, soiled pile of clothes laid out on her cot.  A mass of three dresses sat heaped together – the only clothing that she’d come here with. Fingering the soft fabric, she remembered their previous owner.  

* * *

 

_Phoebe’s long hair fell extravagantly around her face and in her eyes before a frustrated hand pawed at the frizzy strands and swiftly pulled them into a fat ponytail. Her voice sang with exasperation as she tried vainly to convince her sister to take something other than the dichromic uniform that seemed her sole habille.  “Katie….”_

_Kathryn rolled her eyes, a sentiment reflected in her voice, as she firmly placed the pile back in her sister’s hands. “I’m only going to be away for two weeks! Just when am I going to wear these?”_

_Keeping the disarranged dresses in her hands, the younger woman sat down exasperatedly on the bed.  “I just thought they’d be nice,” she said._

_Kathryn exhaled and sat down on the spacious bed next to her sister, saddened by her disconsolation and embarrassed be how callous she’d behaved as she gingerly took the pile of fabric from her sister’s hands.  She leaned into her sister and kissed her cheek.  “I’m sorry,” Kathryn said as she leaned against her temple. “Thank you for thinking of me.”_

_“Yeah,” Phoebe nodded before she turned to the woman she’d looked up to her whole life, even though so few years stood between them.  “I’m going to miss you, know you.  Mom and I both are.”_

_Kathryn nodded, feeling the softness of the fabric between her fingers. “I’ll miss you, too.”_

_“Take care of yourself out there.”_

_“I will,” Kathryn smiled and met her sister’s sky-blue eyes, something she’s inherited from Gretchen.  “I promise.  And it's only for two weeks - not like I'm going to be gone forever.”_

* * *

 

“Hey,” she felt a warm hand lightly at her waist, a soft voice to rouse her back to the present.  He turned to her him, reading the disconsolation that coated her porcelain features.  “Tell me.”  

“It’s nothing,” Kathryn gave a weak smile. “I was just thinking about my sister,” she held up the dress in her hand.  “She gave me these to wear before I left.  I thought she was being ridiculous and I demeaned her gift, telling her I wouldn’t have time to wear them.”  A solemn laugh accompanying no smile escaped her lips. “Now I seem to have all the time in the world."  

He bowed his head and nodded, taking the dress from her hand before he laid it on the bed with ginger care.  He said nothing for a time, content to let her be until she spoke again. 

“I keep thinking about them – Phoebe and my mother. I want to share things with them, tell them what I’m thinking or what’s happened in my day…” She stopped and looked up at him. “About you, and the home we’re building together.”

He tightened his hold on her hand before letting go and turning to the pile of clothing on her bed.  “What would they say?” 

Kathryn smiled at the look on his face, “about what?”

“Us,” he rouged.  “Me.” 

“I think they would be happy,” Kathryn leaned up and kissed his cheek, lingering for a moment on his skin before she stooped down and gathered the pile in her arms and placed the heap in the crate at the foot of the bare mattress.  “Phoebe might be jealous.” 

A devilish wink accompanied the latter statement and made him smile all the more.  His hand moved up in an inured tic to tug on his earlobe before she caught it, bringing it to her lips.  “Your ear’s going to fall off one day if you keep that up.”

"I’ve done that since I was a little boy," He laughed and moved past her to take the crate. “My mother used to say something similar.” 

Kathryn bent down to take the extra blankets and followed him out of her small enclosure.  “Mothers usually know best.” 

“So she liked to tell me.  Here,” he nodded at the bedclothes in her hands. “Let me take those.”

She deposited the heap on top of her clothing as she looked around the shelter’s skeleton. “Should we take the shelter down, do you think? Put it back in the stasis units?” 

“We could,” Chakotay shrugged, impartial to the notion as they headed out of the shelter down a worn path. “It’s not a bad idea. It would save it from the environmental wear and tear.  We could always use the parts to make additions to the cabin in the future.”  

The cabin was beginning to feel more like a home, he thought, looking around and seeing the collective aggregate of their belongings strewn messily in crates or half hung on the walls.  “I found your paint set,” he said, realising that he’d lost Kathryn somewhere between the main room and the bedroom when she didn’t respond. “Kathryn?” 

“I’m out here."

“Don’t like the way I’ve set up the cabinets?” 

“It’s not that.” She grinned. “I was just looking. I haven’t been in here since this morning before you finished.” 

“I don’t like them too much against the wood,” he leaned against the wall, watching her.  “But they’ll do for now.” 

She looked over at him, one eyebrow, “another project?”

“We’ll add it to the list,” he grinned. “Along with a table for the living room and a place for us to eat.”  

“You’re going to be busy for the next few months,” Kathryn glinted.  “Boats, tables, cabinets…”

“I’ll wait until after the break before we start any new projects."    

“ _We,”_ she gave him a jokingly suspicious mock-frown before a yawn interrupted, making her scrub her eyes against the abrupt flash of fatigue.  “Oh, I’m tired all of a sudden! Come on,” she turned around, walking past him out of the cabin towards the shelter.  “If I don’t have to sleep in my cot against the wall now that you're finished, I'm not going to. Oh, I don’t know why I’m so tired.”

She was giddy as they entered her enclave.  “You know I was thinking...”  

“Hmm?”    

“I was thinking that after we’re done here,” her voice strained a little as they manoeuvred the cumbersome object around the corner and outside towards the cabin.   “I would start sketching some of the flora and fauna here, starting my own little database and seeing if any of them have any edible or medicinal properties.” 

“That’s a good idea,” Chakotay looked backwards to the stairs.  “Slow down for a second,” he made one awkward backwards step.  “I don’t want to trip on the stairs.”  

“On Earth,” her voice strained as the lifted the rear end over the steps as he ascended.  “I read once that the Amazon Rain Forest once held thousands of medicinal species – many of them components of then modern day medications.”

He smiled over at her from the top of the steps, enjoying the excitement in her voice.  “I didn’t know that.” 

“Mm,” her head brushed against the side of the mattress as she nodded and followed him into the bedroom.  “I’ve always been fascinated by that.” 

“Moment of truth,” he said, standing the object on end before he let it fall into place on the tableau. “See if it fits.”

They breathed a collective sigh of relief to see its fit before turning back to the shelter to repeat the same action with his mattress.  “It looks fine,” she grinned proudly.  “Just fine.”

He looked justly smug.  “It does.”  

Kathryn smiled and tugged at his hand as they made a repeat trip back to the shelter.  “I’ve never made a bed before,” he said.  “Let’s hope it doesn’t break.” 

“Under our collective grandiosity?” She laughed.

When the second mattress fell alongside the first, he gave her a tentative look, “Well?”  She asked.  

He turned his head this way and that. “I can’t believe it’s finished.”

She smiled. “Are you disappointed?”

“Disappointed?”  He gave her a look.

“Well,” she shrugged, walking around the perimeter on her side of the mattress.  “You just look a little-“ 

“I'm definitely not disappointed,” he filled in hastily. "Just relieved to be done."  

Kathryn sat carefully on her mattress. “It’s higher than the cots,” she measured, bouncing slightly. 

“More space."     

Kathryn nodded, kicked off her shoes as she slid up higher near the headboard, and leaned back against it before she let out a long, happy sigh.  “Thank you, Chakotay.”

* * *

 

_Kathryn’s head rested against the curved back of her parents’ antique bed to look at the young lady sitting next to her._

_“What?” Phoebe felt her sister’s eyes on her.  “What, Katie?”_

_“Nothing,” Kathryn shook her head and turned back._

_“No,” Phoebe opened her eyes and looked pointedly, “tell me.”_

_“Nothing,” Kathryn tried to say once more, but Phoebe’s stare was too dogged – too much like Gretchen’s._ _  
_

_“Does it weird you out that mom and dad had sex on this bed?”_

_“What?” Kathryn guffawed at her sister’s usual brand of random hilarity. “I don’t… think I’ve ever really thought about it, but thanks for the image.”_

_Phoebe smiled, laughing as she shrugged.  “Do you remember how they were together?”_

_“Mm,” Kathryn nodded deliberately.  “They were-“_

_“Happy,” Phoebe interrupted again.  “They were happy… Do you think…?”_

_Kathryn stared her sister down.  “Do I think what?”_

_“You know, I just wonder if I’ll ever find that.”_

_“Find what?”_

_“You know… ‘that’.” she motioned suddenly with her hands and grappled with the air in front of her, as if she were moulding it like one of her sculptures. “That once in a lifetime sort of romance like they had – something epic.”_

_“Epic?” Kathryn sniggered.  “You sound like a little girl, Phoebe.”_

_Phoebe took an exasperated breath at her sister’s antics. “You know what I mean, Katie.”_

_“I know what you mean, Phoebe,” Kathryn bobbed her head once in riled acquiescence._

_“You and Mark – you two-“_

_“Don’t, Phoebe,” Kathryn closed her eyes and shook her head.  “Please.”_

_“I’m just saying, Katie,” her sister pressed, disheartened.  “Don’t sell yourself short.”_

_“I’m not,” Kathryn said.  “I’m not. Mark is just fine. He’s fine.  Mark is fine.”_

_She heard Phoebe laugh before she felt a congenial smack on her arm.  “Okay, Mark is fine.”_

_“He is.”  Kathryn hit her sister’s arm back.  “He’s fine, and I’m going to marry him, Phoebe.”_

_“Katie, you’ve been engaged to Mark for years now and you don’t even wear a ring. You don’t even tell people you’re engaged.”_

_“What’s your point?” Kathryn’s tone was expectantly belligerent. “Am I supposed to shout it from the rooftops?”_

_Phoebe dropped her shoulders as she pivoted her body, sitting Indian style as she regarded the person she looked up to most in her universe.  “You deserve so much more, Katie. That’s all I’m saying. You deserve passion, romance, sex…! Someone who would do anything for you; someone who tells you that you’re beautiful…” She broke with a laugh.  “All that crap you don’t believe in and make fun of me for being obsessed with – you deserve all of that.”_

* * *

 

Kathryn turned her head and looked at the man beside her.  His eyes were closed and his breathing even in slumber.  _“Chakotay?”_ She whispered, tugging at his shoulder until he roused enough to pay attention to her. Drowsy eyes looked at her with all the emotion he felt and a sleepy, dimpled grin pulled at his cheeks as he slid down so that his head rest against the bare mattress. 

On the brink of somnolence, he lazily gathered her body against his.  Newly imbued with his sense of fatigue, she shook her head and closed her eyes, ear rested against the maximum point of impulse to feel his heart beat strongly against her cheek.  


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Long time no see! My summer was a complete whirlwind full of USMLE exams and internships and residency applications. But now that all is said and done, back to the story! 
> 
> Thank you so much in the meantime for all your lovely kudos :)
> 
>  
> 
> Becca

She woke slowly with her toes curling against the cold in the room. She snuggled back further against the heat on her back, but it wasn’t enough, and that realisation drew her to awareness. 

The sensation of waking somewhere other than the shelter was an odd one. So used to seeing the shelter's beige polycarbonate walls, she took a moment to appreciate this new novelty before it became commonplace. 

Her eyes memorised the rough wood before the drifted up to look out at the stars whose light shone brightly through the skylight. Everywhere she looked she saw him – the work of his hands, the little details he put into his craft – the pride he took in it. 

Kathryn hadn’t registered the arm around her waist until it tightened and the body behind her became heavier. Puffs of warm air moved the small hairs at her neck and heated the skin of her ear. His breath was measured and steady, nearly silent. 

“Chakotay?” She whispered, turning slightly against him and drawing her legs up in an effort to warm her toes. “Chakotay?” 

He made a noise but no exertion towards wakefulness – was simply content to mumble something unintelligible and sink further into sleep. Kathryn chuckled and said his name again, louder this time as she nudged at the arm around her waist. 

“Chakotay, wake up!” 

She felt his body jolt before he took a swift quaff of air, “What, Kathryn? What is it?” 

“My feet are cold.” She said plaintively. “I need a blanket.” 

“Oh…” He snuffled and withdrew his hold on her. “What time is it?” 

She looked up at the darkness outside the skylight. “I’m not sure.” 

“I’m tired,” He yawned and sat up with her. “Where are the blankets?” 

“In the stasis unit in the living room,” She nodded towards the door before she pattered away from him. “Wait here, I’ll get them.” 

He rubbed his eyes as he watched her go before he got up to follow her. “Where did you get so many blankets?” He chuckled, finding her in front of a large unit by the wall of the kitchen stuffed full with an array of what looked to be throws and a duvet. 

She smiled and handed him one similar to the comforter on his bed on Voyager. “I always come prepared,” she told him. “I didn’t know how long we’d be here, or if there would be a winter… The blankets that come with the shelter leave a little to be desired.” 

Chakotay grinned in agreement. “Starfleet has always valued utility over comfort.” 

“Mm,” Kathryn laughed to herself, getting up off the floor and followed him back into their bedroom. “It’s nice to finally have a bed to spread out in.” 

Chakotay nodded through a yawn and dumped the collection on the bed before their hands tangled in the mess to arrange them. “It is,” he stifled another yawn. “We must have slept the whole day away.” 

“We fell asleep at four… or what we think is four.” 

He laughed at the random absurdity of their situation – of their making their own time. “Why are you laughing?” She smoothed the comforter over the bed and smiled at him. 

“Nothing…” he shook his head. “That we make our own time here.” 

“Well, not really,” she contended. “The computer calculates it based on the position of the sun relative to the planet.” 

“Still,” he shrugged. 

“If you’re saying that it’s still an artificial construct,” she winked. “You’re right. Now,” she exhaled and stepped back from the bed. “That looks good enough to crawl back into.” 

Chakotay nodded, gave her a boyish grin, and swiftly followed her suggestion before she followed suit. “Better,” he breathed. 

“I think winter is coming,” Kathryn mused, feeling him curl back into the space behind her and assume his previous disposition with his arm around her waist. “The leaves are changing on the trees. You know, Fall was always my favourite season when I was growing up. I wish you could have seen Indiana when all the leaves were changing, especially at our house.” 

“Tell me,” He whispered onto the skin of her neck. “Tell me about the Fall in Indiana.” 

“Well,” Kathryn took a breath and exhaled, letting her mind roll over a thousand bittersweet images. “I remember the smell most of all – the air smelled sweet, like maple syrup almost. And the mornings were cool. I always had to wear a sweater when I took Molly out for a walk. She used to run on the trail behind the house and towards the end of October, when the leaves turned a deep red, I used to lose her in the leaf piles because her coat blended in so well,” Kathryn chuckled at Molly’s recollection, trying hard not to let tears break through her lovely remembrance. 

“What about you, Chakotay?” Kathryn tightened her hold on his arm and squeezed the skin of his wrist. “Did you have a favourite season?” 

She turned slightly in his arms when he didn’t answer, “Chakotay?” Kathryn asked again before she registered the same nearly silent cadence of his measured respiration. 

Her lips curled a sweet smile as she regarded him – those beautiful angles that composed his cheeks, and the sensuously soft curved lips whose texture she thought of so often. She snaked a hand out from under the warm duvet and traced the steep slant of his nose before outlining the dent of his cupid’s bow. “Goodnight, Chakotay.”


	33. Chapter 33

Chakotay looked up at the sky and the hazy clouds hanging there. “I think you’re right.”

Kathryn glanced back at him, her hands buried deep in familiar dirt. “About what?” 

“Winter coming,” He pointed off into the distance. “ The clouds seem to be hanging lower, and it doesn’t feel as warm today.” 

Kathryn nodded once and set her eyes back to the task before her while he continued. “After we’re finished with the cabin I might try to learn more about the climates here. From the scans made on Voyager it looks like there might be different climates at different poles of the planet, much like Earth.” 

“We could go exploring,” She said with a laugh as she stood back and surveyed the work they’d done. “Go on a camping trip.” 

“Camping trip?” He smiled. “I used to go on those with my father; I hated every one of them.” 

His comment drew a loud guffaw from his companion. “My family always insisted we go on camping trips when Phoebe and I were younger. They said it was so we’d keep a connection to our pioneer roots - I hated it!” 

“We’re birds of a feather then,” He chuckled, laying down the assembled piping in the tunnel they’d been working on. “Where did you go camping?”

Kathryn sat back on her heels and snuffled her nose as she wiped the thin sheen of sweat born of exertion out of her eyes. “Mostly Indiana,” She remembered. “Usually near the end of the summer before Phoebe and I went back to school. Once we went as far as Yellowstone.” 

He stepped back, away from the long, rudimentary pipe he was assembling in piecemeal. “Tell me more,” Chakotay implored. 

“Well,” Kathryn cleared her throat and uselessly brushed off her blackened, dirt-caked knees. “I suppose I was always a child of the 24th century, and I never seemed to take to it.” 

“You sound like me,” he chuckled. “I remember camping with my father in the South American rainforests looking for the elusive Rubber Tree People. We wandered for weeks – my father looking for clues… gone on one of his wild goose chases.” 

“I remember you telling me about that earlier this year,” Kathryn remembered with a chuckle. 

“Yes,” He nodded and continued sautering the components of the pipe together as she resumed digging the tunnel along the path they’d planned out earlier that morning over breakfast. 

They planned a line from the river to the house, but to do so in this environment required old-fashioned pipes. And so using the replicator on the shuttle, they’d determined it would be more energy sparing if they replicated the components in sections rather than creating one device and beaming it into the ground – which still might have yielded limited success. 

“It was always a great disappointment to my father that his only son didn’t want to follow in his footsteps. Even before I was born, I think he hoped – prayed – that I would have the same passion for our heritage that he did, and one day lead our tribe. But all I wanted to do was leave and never come back.” 

Kathryn looked back at him with eyes full of understanding. “It’s never easy letting your parents down.” 

“You sound like you speak from experience.” Chakotay glanced at her as he rolled one long finished section over to where she’d hollowed out a section of ground. “I think this will work,” he changed the subject for a moment. “I’ll help you with the digging once I have the next section finished.” 

“I’m all right for now,” Kathryn jumped into the hollow and started attaching the blue pipes to the adapter. “I’d rather work through the afternoon and finish as much as we can.” 

“Dying for a bath?” 

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Kathryn laughed. “Also a proper shower.” 

“A hot shower,” Chakotay said wistfully. 

“Yes a hot shower and a hot bath.” 

“No water rations,” he smiled. 

“No water rations,” she echoed gratefully and set to attaching the components to the adapter, which connected to small pipes they’d already set up in the cabin earlier that morning. “Tell me more about Kolopak.” 

“I thought you were telling the stories today.”

She heard the teasing in his voice and responded in kind, “I always like your stories better.” 

“But I’m always the one telling them.” 

“So?” 

“I want to hear yours; you already know about me.” 

She laughed at their petty bickering. “Are you always going to be this difficult?” 

“Yes,” He glinted before a bantering silence lay momentary between them. She ignored it though and kept on asking her questions. 

“Tell me what he looked like.” 

“He was lighter than I am,” Chakotay remembered. “My mother was very dark – even darker in the summer months, but my father was light and his skin never seemed to change. My sister and I are somewhere in the middle. He was the same height as I am now, with greyish brown hair that he never cut,” he breathed in solemn remembrance. “He just let it lay long against his shoulders – my mother said she liked it that way.” 

“Your parents sound like they were happy together.” 

“Yes,” He nodded. “They were. When they died, they’d been married for forty two years.” 

“A long time…” Kathryn remembered the happiness of her own parents and how she’d always yearned for what they’d had. 

“My mother was very beautiful – my sister looks… looked,” he faltered, not knowing, only hoping. “Just like her. Every boy in our village wanted to be with her,” he chuckled. “But I scared them all away. Except for one.” 

“I bet you did,” Kathryn shared his gaiety. “Is she married?” 

“She was engaged once to a boy who’d been our friend as a child. He wasn’t from our village, but we saw him and his family often when were young.”

“What happened to him?” 

“He was killed,” Chakotay exhaled his sadness at the memory of the young man his sister loved so much. “By the Cardassians when the war broke out.”

Kathryn stopped her fiddling and looked up at him, her eyes solemn and honest. “I’m sorry, Chakotay.” 

For a moment he lingered, looking blankly at the piping in his hands before he shook himself and gave her a nod with a reassuringly sombre smile. “You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s in the past now. I still hold out hope that she’s found someone to take care of her – I know that she’s more than capable of taking care of herself, but I worry.” 

“You’re her brother,” Kathryn grinned. “You can’t help it.” 

“No,” he chuckled. “I suppose not. How’s it coming down there?” 

Kathryn crouched down on level with the conduit she’d been fixating and breathed a sigh of cautioned approval. “It’s fine. At least I hope it is – I’ve never had to make a water line before.” 

Chakotay stepped away from his own activities and inspected her work, remembering his experience in building homes during his youth. “Well it looks correct according to the computer specifications,” he said, looking over her shoulder as she examined the padd in her hands. “I’ve never built a line by myself, I have to say.” 

“I guess we’ll find out soon enough if we did it correctly,” she tossed the padd down on the ground atop her discarded jumper before she took down her sunglasses and rubbed the sweat from around her eyes. 

“I guess so…” Chakotay sighed. “I’ve been trying to teach myself to enjoy the process instead of rushing towards the finish line…” 

Kathryn snorted a laugh and kissed the scowl on his cheeks before stepping away from him. “And how’s that going?” 

“Not well,” he grumbled. “I’ve never been patient.” 

“Well, I suppose life on this planet is giving us a good lesson in it, though. Tell me more about Sekaya,” Kathryn insisted as she went back to digging further along the path. 

Chakotay conjured the image of his beautiful sister to the fore of his mind. “Sekaya was everything I wasn’t to my parents. She loved our people – our culture, and our heritage. She even trained as a Shaman.” 

“Oh?” 

“I remember when we were younger she would spend hours in her visions, with our village shaman. She was so, so passionate!” He exhaled and shook his head before he relinquished his task and set to help his companion with her activity. “She despised my joining in the Maquis when I did; she said I only did it to absolve my own guilt for letting my parents down. And she was right. I don’t think I would have embraced my culture, or taken this mark if they hadn’t died. I would still be living in San Francisco, teaching classes at the Academy…” 

Kathryn was at a loss for what to tell him – how to console him. So for a time, they worked in silence until a cool breeze swept in from the east just as the sun dipped behind grey clouds. “I think it’s going to rain again,” Chakotay told her, shivering slight cool. 

Kathryn heaved a sigh of consternation, “I just hope it isn’t another plasma storm!” 

“I don’t think it is,” He replied, pointing up to the sky. “It feels like it did the night before. It’s not warm enough for it to be a plasma storm.” 

“How do you know?” She looked at him dubiously as the storm rolled in more quickly, prompting them to start frantically covering the worked they’d toiled over. 

“I don’t!” He looked above them to the gloomy heavens, raising his voice over the wind as it picked up. “I’m just hoping!” 

The sky darkened remarkably fast as he scurried to pick up her pile of belongings and his before she took his hand and they ran inside. Kathryn dropped her shovel by the door and pattered over to the newly installed aluminium windows that covered the far of their living area. “I think you’re right. It looks like a thunder storm – like the ones that used to roll through the plains in Indiana during an Indian summer.” 

He listened around them to the sounds, watching as the wind buffeted the drying leaves on the trees in the forest. “I never liked them,” she exhaled into his touch as he wrapped his arm around her waist. “The thunder always scared me.” 

“What did you do when the storms came?” He asked quietly. 

“I hid under my covers,” she smiled abashedly at the recollection. “Or I found my parents, or Phoebe – anyone who would hold me.” 

He wound his other arm around her waist, resting his chin on her head as they watched nature collide around them. “Like this?” 

“No,” Kathryn sniggered when his lips found the skin of her temple. “Only you hold me like this.” 

This time when the lightening flashed and the thunder clapped over the mountains, she did not jump, rather she leaned back further into the solid dependability of the man behind her and was simply content to watch and enjoy nature’s great show.


	34. Chapter 34

Kathryn sat back and watched as the rain pelted down on the windows, while her companion sat quietly beside her with his hands occupied by a small piece of wood. The sound of his carving and the rain on the house filled the thoughtful silence between them. 

She thought over his words, and the images she conjured of his life before she met him. Kathryn tried to imagine Chakotay as a boy, in the life that he grew up in so far from her own. “Tell me more about your mother,” Kathryn asked softly. “What was her name?” 

Chakotay sighed and stopped the movements of his hands against the timber. “Sayen,” he breathed and turned his face to her. “It means ‘lovely’ in the Mapuche language. And she was. She was very lovely,” he remembered his mother’s smile and her soft voice. “She was about your height and very slender - had long black hair, like Sekaya’s. She used to braid it like you do sometimes and it would hang long down her back. My father loved her hair – he said it was like a wedding veil.” 

Kathryn smiled sweetly at him and waited for him to continue. “She was one of the leaders of out tribe, along with my father. I remember the women of our village would come to her for advice and council. The more I think about her, the more she reminds me of you. You would have liked her,” her smile grew and so did his. “She would have enlisted your help on better methods of making seedlings grow in the hot, arid climate on Dorvan. She often got frustrated with my father – like I did.” 

“How so?” 

“My father was a bit of an isolationist when it came to outside influence in our culture, whereas my mother, though she treasured our heritage, was more of a modernist. She wasn’t opposed to using technology to better our people and way of life.” 

“You didn’t have any technology growing up?” Kathryn asked, her astonished tone making her companion chuckle. 

“It wasn’t like that,” he laughed, his back falling against the sofa. “Just not as much as you did, probably.” 

“Did you have a replicator?” 

“Not one of our own, no,” Chakotay shook his head. “We had a few in the village, but they weren’t commonplace. The first time I experience the holodeck was when I was fifteen before I went to the Academy,” he chuckled. 

Kathryn lay against the couch to regard him, “What about computer consoles?” 

“I had that,” he nodded, remembering the layout of his childhood bedroom. “For my studies, but I used it little outside of school.” 

His companion shook her head in amusement. “What?” He asked. 

“Nothing,” she chuckled. “I grew up so differently, I suppose. I had access to every bit of technology from when I was a young girl. I just got used to it.” 

Chakotay just shrugged. “You must find living like this intolerable then.” 

“No,” she laughed. “I was never addicted to it, but I do miss going onto the holodeck – playing out a good period piece.” 

“I miss the boxing programmes. They were always good for exercise.” 

Another silence lay between them as Kathryn turned her eyes back to the darkened skies, and Chakotay set back to his carving. “I miss them,” she spoke tenderly. “I miss our ship. I miss our crew, our roles…” 

For the second time Chakotay stopped what he was doing and lay his project down at his feet before he turned to her. “I know.” 

She met his kind, russet eyes. “Don’t you miss it, Chakotay?” 

Chakotay breathed out settled back further onto the sofa. One hand came up to the back of his neck, massaging the aching muscles there as he thought on his answer. 

“Sometimes I do. I miss the life I made for myself on the ship, I miss B’Elanna, I miss Mike, other members of the Maquis, and even Neelix and Kes… but then I’m happy to continue my life here. That sounds selfish when I say it out loud.” 

“It doesn’t sound selfish,” Kathryn smiled crookedly at him. 

“There’s nothing for me in the Alpha Quadrant, Kathryn,” he said quietly. “Not like the things that are there for you – a family, a house, a fiancé…” 

She looked down at her lap. “I wish this war had never happened.” 

“So do I,” he bowed his head and reached out to take her hand, speaking quietly. “But there’s nothing to be done now.” 

“No,” Kathryn tangled their fingers together and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “There isn’t. I’m sorry, now I’ve made you sad.”

“You haven’t,” Chakotay shook his head and brought their hands up to his lips. “I’m sorry all you’ve lost, Kathryn. I wish there was some way that I could give it all back to you; that I could snap my fingers like a Q and provide you everything.” 

Kathryn leaned over and kissed his cheek, cradling his face to her lips. “You do enough for me – too much. Thank you.” 

The sky began to clear, and the sun peaked through the grey clouds and shone its abundant life on the two companions. “The storm is over,” Kathryn said gratefully. “Though I doubt we’ll be able to get much work done in the mud.” 

“Might be best to wait until morning,” he thought aloud. “Hopefully we’ll have better weather so we can finish the piping.” 

“See if it actually works!” Kathryn chuckled as she unfurled her legs from underneath her. “I’m getting hungry.” 

“I’ll make us some dinner,” Chakotay nodded and followed after her the few steps in the kitchen. “Tomato sandwiches?” 

“Yes, please.” 

He reached above her and took down the replicated bread from the cabinet. “You know I was thinking: I might try my hand at canning.” 

“We are pioneers,” Kathryn chuckled. “I read a book when I was a girl about the American settlers in the early nineteenth century making their way across America. The book talked about their way of life – how they made and preserved food, made clothing, shelter… At the time I couldn’t imagine it, but now I can.” 

“Lucky for us we have a replicator,” he winked. “You should have seen my village when I was growing up. I’d say it wasn’t too far off from the ones of your pioneer’s.” 

“From all you’ve told me, I should say not!” She chuckled and laid the fresh slices of tomato on the thick slices of bread he’d cut. “This looks good.” 

“Yes,” He smiled and laid two thin slices of replicated cheese from the stasis unit on top of both tomatoes. “Indeed it does. I didn’t realise how hungry I was.” 

Kathryn cut her sandwich in two and licked the abundant juice from her fingertips. “Don’t waste away on me. You’ve already gotten too thin.” 

“I should say the same for you,” He mumbled, taking his meal back to the living room. “We’re not eating enough for the work we’re doing.” 

Kathryn nodded through a bite of her sandwich. “I’m worried that the replicator is going to give out, and we don’t have enough food without it.” 

“We still have the shuttle.” 

“I know,” Kathryn said as she swallowed a bolus. “But I’m worried about that too. We use it too much.” 

“We have no choice,” he reasoned. “If there was another way to get what we needed it wouldn’t be an issue.” 

Kathryn sighed and took another bite of her sandwich. “I know there’s not much we can do. We need what we’re replicating and we have to eat…” 

“We’re between a rock and a hard place in that respect,” he said through another mouthful. “We’ll just have to cross our fingers and hope that neither give out.” 

“Mm,” Kathryn nodded and refocused on her sandwich. 

“Nothing’s ever easy.” 

“No,” Kathryn smiled at him and took the last bite of her sandwich. “No it’s not. But we’ll make do.” 

“Yes,” Chakotay nodded assuredly. “We’ll certainly make do.”


	35. Chapter 35

The mornings were chillier now – mornings like Kathryn remembered in Indiana. “ _Brr,_ ” Chakotay stepped outside their home into the cool dampness of the day. “It’s cold!”

“It is,” Kathryn drew her arms around her body. “And _wet._ ”

“Yes,” He passed a cringe as he stepped from the house onto the dewy grass. “We’re going to need to replicate warmer clothing as the months grow colder.”

“I was just thinking the same thing,” Kathryn bristled at having to use the replicator for more things, but brushed the notion off as she remembered their conversation yesterday surrounding that inevitability.

She walked, coffee cup in hand, to the site of their work from the day before. “As I expected,” her voice sang with expectant dismay as she lifted the tarpaulin off of the piping they’d done yesterday. “At least I was able to attach the pipes to the conduits before the rain started.”

She heard him harrumph behind her as his warmth heated her back, and she fought the urge to lean back into him and stay there the whole day. “In a way the rain did us a favour.”

“True,” Kathryn considered. “It saved us having to cover everything up manually. But it also ruined what else I’d dug…”

He chuckled and kissed her temple before stepping away, “It’s all about silver linings, Kathryn.”

She turned to him with a lugubrious leer, “Must you always be so optimistic?”

“Someone has to be,” He laughed, dodging her punch. “Hey!”

“I’ll get you for that, Commander,” She glinted. “One of these days.”

“I don’t doubt it,” he shook his head in amusement and handed her the shovel as he set back to the piping. “If we finish this today we can have a shower this evening.”

“Not so fast,” Kathryn started at the malleably wet ground, digging along the small demarcates they’d made the day before. “We still have to set up the water heater.”

“That won’t take long, will it?”

“It shouldn’t,” She snuffled and brushed stray strands of long hair out of her eyes. “A shower does sound good, doesn’t it? I can’t remember being this dirty since second year Wilderness Exercise.”

“Oh that was bad…” Chakotay shuddered in remembrance. “I didn’t know it was possible for me to smell so terrible until that weekend.”

Kathryn chuckled as she looked back and caught the look in his eyes, “Who was your instructor?”

“Bates.”

“Same!”

“Was I the only one who was scared out of my mind of him?”

“No,” Kathryn snorted. “I remember back to when I was a little girl, daddy invited him to dinner once. I don’t remember being so scared to be in my own house. I couldn’t even eat!"

“He was terrifying.”

“I met his wife when he came for dinner that time. I was shocked!” Kathryn chuckled.

Chakotay shook his head in mortified confusion. “Wait, _he was married_?”

“To the _nicest_ woman I’ve ever met,” Kathryn reported.

“For the longest time I thought he and Nechayev were married.”

His comment drew a loud guffaw from his companion, “That would make more sense.”

“ _Bates was married_ …” Chakotay exhaled. “Well I guess stranger things have happened.”

“Most of which we’ve seen,” Kathryn smiled.

“True,” he reasoned and stepped back from the long blue pipe he was assembling. “I wish there was an easier way to do this.”

“There is,” Kathryn turned to him and nodded towards the clearing where they’d set down the shuttle.

Chakotay grumbled. “I know. I’m tempted.”

“So am I,” Kathryn pummelled the soft ground with the heavy shovel. “Why don’t we switch for a while?”

“Sure,” he stepped over to her and took the old-fashioned utility from her hands as she took the tedious task of sautering. “So what was it like growing up the daughter of an Admiral?”

“Not that exciting,” Kathryn smiled. “Mostly annoying. I almost never saw my father when I was growing up. He was nearly always away, but he tried to make the most of the time when he was home. He was a good father – just torn between his life at home and his work. But he had such a love for it – he was so _passionate_ about Starfleet and its mission…!”

“Is that why you followed in his footsteps?” Chakotay worked the earth with more ease, Kathryn thought, than she did.

“In some ways, yes. Mostly, I just didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life other than science. Starfleet offered the most opportunity and had the best programme in quantum mechanics and bioscience, so I applied, got in, and the rest is history.”

“I don’t believe that,” Chakotay looked up and then down back at the shallow tunnel. “You don’t seem like the kind of person who was aimless as a teenager.”

“Aimless isn’t the word,” she chuckled. “I think subconsciously I always wanted to be in Starfleet – I wanted what daddy had, and I was born a leader. I don’t think I could have considered anything else, but there have been times where I wished that I explored other options.”

“Namely times since we’ve been out in the Delta Quadrant.”

“Before that,” Kathryn smiled at the laden suggestion. “But yes, more now that we’ve been out here.”

“I can’t see you as anything other than a captain,” He started. “At least I couldn’t until now.”

“You didn’t know me very well until now.”

“I still don’t know you very well,” The tone in his voice sent a shiver down her spine.

She tried for a laugh, but it ended up a sad gargle in the back of her throat before she could catch herself. “At least not as well as I want you to.”

This time it was he who shuddered, hit with a sudden wave of desire. He coughed and cleared his throat, and made her laugh. “Two can play the innuendo game, Chakotay.”

“Apparently,” he chuckled, shaking his head while he channelled his energy into the task set before him.

They worked in parallel until he got to the bend in the path they’d set out. “We need to lay the pipe before we take it the final ten metres to the river. Did you remember the filters?”

“Yes,” Kathryn snuffled and re-examined her work before he joined her.

“It looks good.”

“Thank you,” She wiped her nose again and rubbed the exhaustion from her eyes. “It’ll be good to finish this.”

“It will, now we just have to pray that it works.”

“Fingers crossed,” Kathryn crossed her arms over her heart in a familiar gesture.

They laid the rest of the path and tunnelled the piped into the river. “I’ve never done this before,” Chakotay looked back at her with a healthy dose of trepidation. “I hope we set the valves properly…”

“We’ll find out soon enough,” Kathryn squeezed his shoulder before she took his hand and set back along the path back to the house.

They headed straight for the bathroom, a mess of ducts and lines hanging in and out of the bathtub he’d made. The pair worked in concerted silence, consulting each other and the padd every few minutes before assembling and hammering each conduit against the wall, in and out of the rudimentary heater they’d replicated days before.

“Well,” Kathryn blew a stray hair out of her face and stood back.

Chakotay gave her his hands and helped her step out of the capacious tub. “Now, the moment of truth…” he said and gave the showerhead one more firm twist on the metal pipe.

“Mmm,” Kathryn snuffled the increasing congestion in her nose before she gave a series of successive sneezes. “The moment of truth.”

Shower momentarily forgotten, he stepped in towards, raising a concerned hand to her forehead. “Are you feeling all right?”

“Fine,” She nodded unconvincingly. “Just a bit of a cold – I always used to get one when the temperature started to change.”

“I’m not convinced…”

“Cha-kotay,” she rolled her eyes through the syllables of his name. “All I want is a hot shower. I can still smell myself in spite of this congestion. Even if I was dying, I’d still want to finish this.”

“Fair enough,” he chuckled. “And you do stink- ow, Kathryn!”

She laughed, “You earned that. Not like you smell like a bunch of roses.”

“I was kidding,” he snorted and pulled her close to him, laying a kiss on the crown of her hair.

“Chakotay!” She whined, batting him away. “You really do stink, and I don’t think my hair has ever been this greasy.”

“Tough,” he pulled her back and kissed her hair again just to prove a point. “Do you want the do the honours?”

“Gladly,” she smirked and brushed past him to the most rudimentary and aesthetically displeasing, utilitarian tangle of pipes and conduits she’d ever seen. “Moment of truth.”

Chakotay crossed his fingers as she set the box to the highest heat setting and turned her hand on the lever. The apparatus sputtered and gurgled, prompting Kathryn to look back dubiously at her companion before she turned back to the ramshackle mess.

“Oh!”

She jumped with a start as the shower came to life. “We did it!” She shrieked excitedly as water started gloriously pouring out of the shower-head.

Chakotay laughed as she turned to him, face alight with a joy that he’d become addicted to seeing from her. She jumped into his arms in jubilation as the room began to fill with a blessed steam. “Hot water, Chakotay!” She laughed, completely elated as she kissed him quickly. “We did it!”

“We did,” He held her, watching as the blessed water fell strong and steady in streams from the rudimentary tap. “We certainly did.”


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maste (Mash-deh) means "sunny" in Lakota; the translation of Yuma is "son of a chief"

Kathryn stood under the scalding stream, letting the heat from the water seep under her skin and soothe her aching muscles. _“Oh…”_ A sigh escaped her lips as she bent her neck back and rinsed the smooth lather from the tips of her hair.

From the other side of the wall she could hear him pattering around the living room, and could picture him fixing this or that as he saw fit.

Grateful wasn’t the word Kathryn would use to paint the sentiment that she felt for him. For it was too paltry and lacked all the emotion and thankfulness she had for Chakotay’s companionship.

Her lips curled a longing, wistful grin when she thought about him – the dimples on his cheeks, the width of his strong shoulders, the strength of the muscles in his legs… but for Kathryn's love and affection for him was rooted less in the physicality of his beauty as it was in the man that he was: good and kind, putting her needs above his own.

She had only mentioned in passing, and only in the first few moments after they’d woken from stasis, that she loved a bath. And not a week later, he’d made this tub for her. The week after, she’d been presented with a comfortable headboard because he noticed she liked to sit up and read in bed.

Thoughts clangouring, for the third time in the last half hour she absently lathered her body with the fragrant soap and washed away a grime that was no longer there. Soapy bubbles on her skin, she sighed at how good it felt to finally be clean.

With a keen reluctance she rinsed herself off for the last time and regrettably turned the dial. The searing stream came to a halt and she suddenly felt cold as she reached for her favourite blue towel.

 _“You finished in there?”_ She heard an impish leer in his voice.

“Why?” She smiled languidly. “Do you want to come in and look at me in my towel?”

He sniggered, abashedly remembering to a night not long back when the pale moon shone on her bare shoulders. _“Is than an invitation?”_

She laughed, shaking her head. “I’ll be right out, Chakotay.”

He stepped back from the door, a satisfied smirk not leaving his face as he stepped back into the living area and set his hands back to fiddling with the console on the wall. Not an engineer, he often struggled with such things that Kathryn would find simple, even boring.

“I’ll fiddle with it later,” he heard her say from behind him. He turned to find her smiling at him, standing in that same towel with another wrapped around her hair. “How’s the shower?”

 _“Divine,”_ Kathryn sighed happily, setting a folded knot in the top of the towel before she stepped past him. “The environmental controls aren’t going to be easy to adapt into the cabin,” her fingers ran over the touch pad with an alacrity that he lacked. “It’s going to take a little work since the shelter came already wired.”

“Our next project,” Chakotay sighed and rubbed his neck. “I need to start a list of projects.”

“They do keep piling up,” she set the bleeping console to sleep. “Why don’t you jump in the shower?”

“Are you saying I stink?” He ribbed.

“You do stink,” Kathryn chuckled. “Go on! I’ll make us some dinner.”

Chakotay made a jokingly ominous face at her as he started backing away. “Don’t even say it,” Kathryn hit his chest lightly, pushing him towards their bedroom. “I’ll make sandwiches. I can’t very well ruin those.”

“I was only kidding,” he snorted. “I’ll be right out.”

“Take your time!”

The bathroom smelled like Kathryn, and whatever she used to make her hair so soft. When they bathed down by the river, he’d never taken notice of the products she used, but now that their belongings lay so intermingled, he took the time to examine them.

Chakotay had never shared this brand of intimacy – one that transcended the boundary of physicality.  His brief liaison with Seska was selfish and served a single purpose during a time in his life when he was at war with himself.

* * *

_“Chakotay?”_

_“Yes, Maste.”_

_The girl gave a genuine, bright smile that lit up her face – painted it with two deep dimples. “You haven’t called me Maste in so long.”_

_Chakotay looked down, hands folded tightly in his lap – now white from the tension. “Chakotay?”_

_The smile fell away as soon as it had appeared, now replaced with abundantly falling tears. Her disconsolation tore at him. “I’m sorry,” he said, the words of his native language broken and riddled with an acute misery._

_Her arms came around him and held him tightly; it felt so good to do so after such a long and lonely absence. “I’m so sorry.”_

_“Nothing you could have done would have stopped it,” she kissed his cheek and laid her forehead against his temple. “And if you stayed you’d probably be dead. So would I. I keep telling myself that they died for a home they loved, and that-”_

_“But it doesn’t mean anything!” He growled, pulling away from her as the nails digging into his palms drew blood. “It doesn’t mean and damn thing! They should have left, Goddammit! They should had left when they had the chance – they all should have. We wouldn’t be here if they’d left!”_

_Sekaya stood up, defiant, and pointed her finger – her usual conformation during their arugments. “They took away our home and the people we love because your Federation wouldn’t listen!”_

_Sekaya was primed for the inured defence of his precious organisation. He argued with her so many times – upholding Starfleet’s principles, even their negotiation with the Cardassians. But this time nothing came from him -- only his edgy silence._

_Something in him fell away in the long quiet between them, and brokenly he fell back onto the ratty sofa. “I’m tired, Maste… I’m so tired from so much hatred in my heart.”_

_His dolefulness fomented a fresh round of tears in her as they sat together in a shared solitude and wept for all they had lost and the violent furore that was to come._

_“It looks good on you,” Sekaya’s voice was craggy as she turned his face so she could regard the new mark over his left temple. “Mama would tell you it was handsome; she would be so proud. So would Papa - that you took his mark.”_

_Chakotay kissed her palm gratefully, leaning against her in his despondency. “They’re dead.”_

_She closed her eyes and her arms enfolded her brother. “I know, Yuma, but what about us…? We’re still living. It’s a curse.”_

_Chakotay tipped forward, leaning his elbows on his knees as he cradled his face in his hands and rubbed his eyes and frustration. “We won’t win this war, Maste. We are too few, and most of our fighters are only children who have never seen the ravages of battle, or they are old men, like Papa – philosophers and dreamers – not warriors. We’re not prepared for this.”_

_“Then we die,” Sekaya’s soft timbre was calm and resigned. “But we die with our freedom, fighting for a home we loved.”_

_Chakotay exhaled loudly and nodded into his palms before he looked at her, eyes darkened with a hateful resolve. Sekaya brought her hands to her brother’s beloved face. “Mama said she loved your eyes because they were always so full of love.”_

_“I have no love left in me.”_

_His sister let out a full breath and smiled at the man sitting in front of her – a man who she still saw as a gentle boy crouching down and cradling her scraped knee while he spoke soft words of comfort that took away her pain. “Your story does not end here, Chakotay,” she said with such a fervour that he believed her._

_“Neither does yours, Maste,” He leaned in for the last time and hugged her to him tightly. “The mark looks better on you,” he said as he kissed his fingers and covered the tattoo over her left temple. “Be safe.”_

_“You too,” she nodded once and covered his fingers with her palm, holding his skin to hers for perhaps the last time. “I love you, Yuma, and if I don’t see you again in this flesh, then perhaps in the Spirit world where we shall all be together again.”_

* * *

 

Until he met Kathryn, Chakotay thought he would never feel tenderness again. In the Maquis, Chakotay was a man full of hatred, detached from who he was long ago before the conflict.

He wondered if the man he was now would recognise his former self’s dark, clouded eyes – or if he would understand the series of follies he made.

Hot water running over his back, Chakotay reflected on the life they had made over the five months that they had been here. His relationship with Kathryn was different than anything he’d had before.

His focus during the Academy was laser sharp. Mentored and sponsored by the great Captain Sulu, he’d never wanted to disappoint him or the investment he’d made, and as a result, the more carnal aspects of Chakotay’s interests had fallen to the wayside. Later on there had been women, but none of them ever stayed – none of them understood, or made an effort to.

Despite his obstinacy during his adolescence, Chakotay had always yearned for what his parents had – a family, deep companionship. But those ideations were abrogated when he entered the Maquis. And for that time he was more than content to die – more than content to find the Spirit World and stay for eternity in atonement for his abandonment.

 _“Chakotay?”_   The subtle shyness in her voice made him smile.

“Yes, Kathryn?”

She laughed, leaning against the bathroom door. _“Have you drowned in there?”_

“Nearly,” He soaped the entirety of his body for a second time, stealing her shampoo for his hair and the overgrown stubble on his cheeks and chin. “I’ll be out soon.”

 _“Well hurry,”_ She pushed herself off the door and walked away, leaving seemingly a permanent smile on his dimpled cheeks. _“I’m waiting to eat with you.”_


	37. Chapter 37

Kathryn’s pile of belongings was meagre when she looked at it, confined just to one medium-sized container. “My whole life,” she mumbled. “Fits in one box.”

“So does mine.” A heated gust from the bathroom coupled to the warmth of his voice hailed his presence in their room. “Maybe a smaller one than yours.”

She blushed at being caught taking to herself. “I don’t suppose you or any of the Maquis had time to pack before you abandoned the Val Jean.”

“No,” he chuckled morbidly. “But I never had much anyways – even my apartment in San Francisco was sparse. I took nothing on the Val Jean – only a few photographs and mementos given to me along the way.”

She smiled sadly and pushed herself up off the floor. The clothing she wore hung baggier than before on her small frame. “I’m hungry, and you took too long.”

He chuckled at the jabbing look in her dark blue eyes, “No longer than you.”

“Touche,” she grinned. “It does feel good, doesn’t it?”

“The shower?” He asked rhetorically, in spite of nodding his agreement. “Even better that we have no water rations. I can’t remember a time since I left San Francisco that I had a long shower without a console beeping at me that my time was nearly up!”

“I used to save mine on board the ship,” Kathryn remembered with a grin. “Once a month I pooled them and had a nice long bath.”

He smiled, thinking of Kathryn’s love for a bath before he nodded towards the kitchen. “Are you ready to eat?”

She nodded enthusiastically. “More than ready.”

“You could have eaten without me, you know,” he took two identical sandwiches from the stasis unit and handed one to her. “I wouldn’t have minded.”

“I wanted to eat with you,” she replied, mouth already full of a hefty bite. “Mmm, I think we should treat ourselves tonight. Have something sweet.”

“I’ll never turn down sweets,” he mumbled. “What’ll we have?”

“Pecan pie?” She suggested hopefully. “Chocolate?”

“Both?” He raised his eyebrows in a boyish suggestion. “But only milk chocolate. Dark is too bitter.”

Kathryn rolled her eyes – Chakotay was famous for his sweet tooth. “We’ll replicate some after din - Chakotay slow down! You’ll give yourself indigestion. _After_ dinner,” she said slowly, recognising his harried antics to make her laugh.

He sat back against the sofa and remembered his life back in San Francisco. “I miss unlimited replicator rations.” 

“I miss my mother’s brownies,” Kathryn swallowed the last bite of her sandwich. “My mouth waters just thinking about them...”

“What kind of brownies?" His thoughts ran over one another.  "Remember the Night Owl? They had the best-“

“Double Fudge Death by Chocolate brownies?” Kathryn finished with a sigh. “Oh those were good. Especially with a cup of coffee after class let out for the day. But they were nothing compared to my mom’s.”

“Mm,” An image of a rich dark brown, almost black square covered with a light dusting of confectioners sugar crept unbidden into his mind. “I would have loved them then.”

“You would have. Chocolate drenched in melted caramel… a gooey centre, crispy edges…” Kathryn recounted as she set her plate down on the small counter he’d laid the day before. “Everyone loved those brownies – as soon as she made them there were hardly any left. And good thing,” she chuckled to herself. “Or else I’d be as big as a house!”

He shared her laughter and joined her in the space in front of the replicator. “Those do sound good. We could always try making them ourselves.”

“We could…” Kathryn sighed. “Or we could just replicate them.”

“Replicate,” he said definitively and manipulated the glass readout on the replicator’s console. “Instant gratification. So, caramel brownies, or pecan pie?”

“Both,” The look in Kathryn’s eyes was positively gleeful as they made their selection. “And coffee.”

“But it’s time for bed, Kathryn!” He laughed. “Decaf?”

“No,” Kathryn batted his hand away and made the selection. “Regular. All the technology in the world can’t remedy decaf coffee. Come on,” she took the plate in one hand and led him back into the living room. “We’re going to have to put that table in here before we take down the shelter.” Kathryn set their goodies down on the sofa.

“I was going to make one…” He looked lamentably to the large empty space they’d left for it. “But I don’t think I’ll get to it before the winter comes.”

“Don’t worry,” she cut the brownie in two and gave him half. “The one from the shelter is good enough for now.” To Kathryn, the craft mattered less, but she knew that for Chakotay it was a way of expression and pride.

“This is good,” she closed her eyes, and a satisfied, lusty smile crossed her lips. “So good.”

Chakotay watched the play of emotion over her face – the utter rapture, and for a moment he was lost... “Well,” she opened her eyes and caught his soft stare. “Aren’t you going to eat yours?”

He nodded, mischievous dimples indenting his sharp cheeks. “When you smile like that I can imagine you as a little boy.”

He grinned further and took a healthy bite of his desert, finishing it in two glorious bites. “Mmph,” Chakotay sighed as she handed him a fork and they started on the pecan pie. “This is divine.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Kathryn felt the sugar and coffee hit her system, giving her a jolt.

Their forks worked away at the generous slice until the last piece, which he pushed at her, not accepting any arguments when she tried to offer it back. “No,” he made a gesture with his hands. “You have it.”

She gave a gluttonously guilty smile. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” he winked and took a sip of the tea he’d replicated, letting its warmth soothe him from the inside out as he watched her.

“Thank you, Chakotay,” Kathryn laid the plate on the floor before she sat back against the sofa to regard him. “I’m full," she said. He grinned in response, sighing a breath of appreciation as the pair descended into a comfortable silence. They were content solely to be and enjoy the quiet of the world around them – the gentle breeze against the walls of the cabin, the rustling sounds of the forest and the alien birds they thought looked like sparrows.

* * *

 

_“I love nights like this,” Phoebe drew her legs close to her body and wrapped the blanket more tightly against the cool autumn breeze._

_Kathryn leaned in to her sister and smelled the fresh shampoo in her curly hair that always seemed to linger no matter how many days it had been since she’d washed it. “Me too.”_

_“So,” Kathryn jabbed her sister’s side with her elbow. “Tell me. What’s the big secret?”_

_When they were only girls, they’d found that the old, drafty window in Phoebe’s bedroom opened onto the roof. Taking a chance one night, after they’d made utterly sure that Edward and Gretchen were asleep, they’d quietly ventured on onto the slanted surface and decided its isolation would be a sufficiently proper place to tell each other their deepest desires and secrets._

_Phoebe snorted and shook her head, “No big secret, Katie. I just wanted to ask you something.”_

_Kathryn’s cobalt eyes slanted at her sister’s tone. “What…?”_

_“Shh!” This time it was Phoebe’s turn to jab her in the ribs. “Put your command voice away; you’ll wake her up!”_

_“Sorry,” Kathryn histrionically lowered her tone, making her sister giggle. “Go on.”_

_“Stop making me laugh,” Phoebe cackled. “This is serious.”_

_“I’m list-en-ing,” Kathryn put her arm around Phoebe’s waist and gave it a squeeze. “What?”_

_“You’re such a goof, Katie,” Phoebe kissed her cheek. “I wish I saw you laugh more.”_

_Kathryn rolled her eyes, “I laugh enough.”_

_“You don’t,” Her sister contradicted. “I know you don’t. Mark – he doesn’t make you laugh. Not even Just-“_

_“Phoebe,” Kathryn rubbed her face in impending exhaustion from Phoebe’s habituated argument. “Please not tonight. What is it you wanted to ask me?”_

_Phoebe sighed in defeat as she took her hands out from under the blanket to admire the sizeable ring on her finger. “Well I know you haven’t really heard me talking about it much since you aren’t here-“_

_“The wedding?” Kathryn rolled her eyes again. “Phoebe, it’s all you can talk about!”_

_“I know,” The young woman dropped her head, cheeks burning with both excitement and embarrassment. “Can you blame me, though?”_

_“No,” Kathryn leaned in and kissed her cheek. “I can’t. He’s a wonderful man, and I’m happy for you – for the life you’re going to have together.”_

_“Thanks,” Phoebe’s smile widened. “I wanted to ask you to be my maid of honour. I know we haven’t been as close these last few years since you went away, but you’re my best friend. You know every little secret – all the stuff that’s too naughty to tell anyone else,” she giggled. “Even Andrew.”_

_Her sister’s question had jolted Kathryn, and touched her beyond anything she expected. “Thank you,” The words stumbled over themselves in the maelstrom of all emotion that she felt. “And I’d be honoured to stand beside you on your wedding day.”_

_“Thank you, Katie.” The warm blanket fell away as she put her arms around her sister’s shoulders and held her close. “I love you - you know that right? I wouldn’t pester you so much if I didn’t.”_

_“I know,” Kathryn nodded against her shoulder. “But our lives are different, Phoebe – what we want… it’s different now. We’re not preteens anymore sitting here talking about how we dream of having someone sweep us off our feet. We’re not all meant –“ she sighed; the last thing she wanted was to have the same fight with her sister for the thousandth time, especially tonight. “Let’s just leave it for tonight, huh? We’ll-”_

_Phoebe pulled back and looked at her sister’s delicately broken features. “Please don’t say that, Katie. I know you don’t mean it.”_

_“Phoebe…” Kathryn’s voice rose an octave. “Please.”_

_“Okay, Katie,” Phoebe nodded and hugged her sister again, willing the tension out of her slender form. “But can I just say one last thing? And then I’ll leave it.”_

_Kathryn huffed a laugh and shook her head. “There’s a fib if I ever heard one, but go on.”_

_“Please don’t settle, Katie. Please,” Phoebe begged. “And I know you don’t believe all those things you said. Every girl wants to be swept off her feet by a man who thinks that she’s everything. Just please don’t settle.” Her exercise in supplication was lost, she knew. But Phoebe Janeway was a romantic; it sang through every pore in her body and escaped through every work she did. And as a rule, all romantics are, at heart, hopeful dreamers. And deep down in the core of her soul, she seemed to believe that if she prayed hard enough and believed with enough fervency, she could resolve her wishes into being._

_“I’m not settling with Mark,” Kathryn said, half believing her own words but saying them with enough adamance that she could pretend._

_“Okay,” Phoebe nodded her head, and put the conversation to rest. For now. “So…”_

_“So?” Kathryn pulled the blanket back up around their shoulders._

_“You know what being maid of honour means, right?”_

_Kathryn rested her chin on her palm and theatrically looked up at the sky in an imitation of thought. “That I’m the most important person in the bridal party?”_

_“No,” Phoebe gave her a mock serious look of correction. “That would be me.”_

_Kathryn made a wounded face of confusion. “Oh well… no then, what?”_

_“Bridal shower.”_

_“Ooohh!” Kathryn fell back against the roof in imitation of dejection. “I hate parties!”_

_“Hey!” Phoebe pulled her back up, the pair of them laughing. “Stop that, you’re letting all the cold in. Are you sure you want to do it? You can say no, I won’t be mad. Well, maybe a little,” she smiled._

_“I’m sure I want to do it. Now...” She sighed._

_"Thank you," Phoebe kissed her cheek in thankfulness. “Now what?”_

_“Now,” Kathryn shuffled closer and, little did she know, placed her arm around Phoebe for the last time. “Sit here with me and watch the stars.”_

* * *

 

“What are you thinking about, Kathryn?” Chakotay’s soft voice broke through her reverie.

Kathryn ran her hands through the damp strands of her drying hair. “Memories,” she sighed. “I was just thinking about the last time I sat with my sister. It was on a night like this back in Indiana.”

He sat patiently, watching the play of emotions over her lovely features as she stared out the window at the obsidian night sky, littered with an increasingly recognisable menagerie of luminescent stars. “Thank you, Chakotay,” she said suddenly as she turned to meet his eyes in the dimness of the room.

He looked at her and smiled softly with a hint of confusion. “For what?”

Kathryn took a sharp breath and looked down at the empty cup in her lap before meeting his eyes again. “For everything. For…” she faltered. “Well for everything.”

He chuckled his confusion. “You have nothing to thank me for, Kathryn.”

Kathryn pulled the blanket she’d placed around her shoulders tighter around her small frame. “The thing is that you don’t even realise,” she said. “It’s just who you are.”

Chakotay’s dimples dented his cheeks even more deeply, “Come on.” He took her hand and headed towards their bedroom. “I’m tired,” he yawned. “I think it was all that warm water. Whenever I couldn’t sleep, I used to take hot showers. Even on Dorvan, when it was hot all the time…”

He continued his soliloquy as Kathryn’s conversation with her sister swirled in her head. “Chakotay?” her tug on his hand stopped his own chortled remembrances.

“Kathryn?” He looked at her with such exquisitely fond tenderness and broke her heart.

She stood in the silence, watching him as he watched her. “Nothing,” she cast a downward smile and shook her head in amusement, stepping up on the tips of her toes to kiss his cheek. “It smells good on you.”

“What?” His warm breath tickled her skin.

“My shampoo,” she winked, shedding the blanket around her bare shoulders onto the bed before she climbed inside.

He blushed and settled in behind her. “I, uh, hope you don’t mind.”

“No,” she pulled his arm around her waist and backed into his warmth and contentedly closed her eyes. “No, I don’t mind at all.”


	38. Chapter 38

She sensed him fall asleep behind her; felt the soft cadence of his breath on her neck as the waters continued to fall from the heavens, pelting off the skylight in their room.  Its harshness would alternate in varying degrees; one moment soft, and the next so unforgivingly severe that she wondered how he could sleep so deeply.   

Kathryn harkened back to that night, and the words that Phoebe had spoken. Now she pondered what her sister would have thought of Chakotay.  

 _Well_ … she smirked and laughed a little into the stillness; that wasn’t a difficult question to answer.    

She imagined them talking for hours on end about art, poetry and music.  Like a child, she’d have taken his hand and shown him around their home, blazoning her every work to which Kathryn could conjure his responses – the dimples on his cheeks, the pensive look on his face when he examined the dainty water-coloured lines Phoebe liked to experiment with.  Chakotay would tell her about the art of his people – would explain the concept of a sand painting.  Phoebe’s attention would be rapt while she mentally catalogued her own gyrations.

She pulled the arm around her waist more tightly and inched back against the sleeping bear behind her, staying only a moment longer in her fantasies before she realised the futility of them… 

Kathryn would never experience that gushing joy her sister had; would never make plans for a languid weekend to bring him home to meet her mother and sister.  And she would never brandish a shiny diamond atop a striking setting. Those days had come and past – first with Justin and then Mark. 

At the time she hadn’t realised it, but in retrospect she perceived the dullness, like an old fashioned photograph whose lustre had long since faded.   Kathryn’s exuberance for her first fiancé had been palpable, but it had also been justly young and naïve.   And her love for Mark, in contrast, was muted and staid – a convenient friendship rather than a passionate frenzy.

Her love for Chakotay had been incremental – first his words and ideals, and then the man himself.  And there _was_ passion; only it was hidden under shallow waters, patiently waiting for the tide to go out. 

 _That_ was a point she thought on more than she should.  The chemistry they long felt was something they innately acknowledged, but their combined inaction was something she increasingly tried to rationalise.

Chakotay seemed to think she was grieving, and though she was, she also knew that their combined isolation on this planet was interminable. 

Weeks ago, when he’d told her he wanted to take this time – the beginning of their life together – to slowly savour, Kathryn had been nearly relieved.

At first, her hesitancy was rationalised; she believed they might be rescued - that her and her crew’s combined efforts would take them away from this forced seclusion and allow them to set a swift course back for home.  But as the weeks and months dragged on and the summer began to wane, so did her hopes for rescue.

However, the ending of her optimism at the prospect of leaving this place was swiftly being replaced by something infinitely greater and a thousand-fold more satisfying. 

Gingerly she turned in his arms, examining his features in the darkness of their room. 

Chakotay looked like a little boy when he slept. Cheek flattened against the pillow with lips slightly open, he created an artificial pout that Kathryn found hopelessly endearing.  She imagined him with a cloud of well-meaning mischief in his eyes, running from his mother’s reproachful eye much like Phoebe when she was younger. 

Kathryn rolled more fully towards him, pressing her body intimately against his – feeling every plane and dip of his contour as she brought her hand to his stubble-roughed cheek and traced upward the exposed silhouette of his sharp nose, the soft hair of his eyebrow, the space between his eyes…

She hadn’t registered his wakefulness until, _“Kathryn?”_ Her name was muttered in a haze of somnolent confusion. 

Embarrassed, she could feel a pink blush creep up her neck and encroach on her cheeks. “ _Sorry_. Go back to sleep.” 

Curious, he opened his eyes more fully. “What?”   

Smiling, she kissed the bridge of his nose. “Nothing.  I’m sorry I woke you,” She said as she went to turn back before his staying hand held her against him.   

He sighed, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. “What are you thinking about?”

Kathryn squirmed, looking down for a long moment before meeting him again.  “Nothing, it was just something my sister said to me a long time ago.”

The fingers on his right hand slackened their grip on her.  “Oh.”

Kathryn kept his gaze in the hazy darkness, searching his moonlit face.  “I’m sorry that I woke you.” 

“Did you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head against the pillow, “no, it’s not important.” 

“It’s important enough to keep you awake,” he countered, voice still foggy with sleep.  “Or was I right about the coffee?”  

Kathryn laughed.  “Never.”  

“I always thought you had the world’s highest caffeine tolerance,” he taunted, rising up on one arm to regard her.   “Seems the great Captain Janeway’s caffeine- _hey!”_  

Her light punch to his chest made him recoil in mock injury.  “It’s _not_ the coffee,” She told him definitively.  “I only had one cup!”  

“ _Kathryn_ ,” Their banter was barely able to keep the smile on his face from being painful. “You haven’t had but one or two cups of coffee a day since we’ve been here.  Could it be, perhaps, that your tolerance is just _lower_ now?” 

“That’s true,” She considered, resting her head on her hand in contemplation.  “On the ship I was drinking upwards of eight.” 

“Eight!” Chakotay exclaimed.  “Kathryn, _eight cups of coffee_?” 

“Sometimes nine or ten,” she conceded. 

He narrowed his eyes and shook his head at her in baffled amusement.  “Did you _ever_ sleep?” 

“Sometimes…” She recalled with a cheeky grin, grinning at him in the half light.  “Even sometimes with a cup before bed.” 

“Well,” he turned his head up towards the skylight and sighed in pedagogical concern.  “It seems those days are _over.”_  

“May-be,” she conceded through a girlish pout. “I guess I’ll have to start drinking tea before bed if I want something hot.”

He laughed, watching the rain shower on the skylight. “There are worse things…”  

The two companions sat in silence, content to bask in one another’s company and listen to the torrent raging outside.  

“Kathryn?”  He asked after the silence. 

Kathryn’s eyes were closed, her head lolled back against the frame of their bed.  “Mm?”   

“Tell me what you were thinking about, please.” 

She turned to regard him looking at her with soft eyes, unable to say not to his supplication. “I was thinking about you.” 

Chakotay exhaled, touched by the softness in her voice as he reached to take her hand underneath the blankets. “What about me?”

“That I wished I could take you home to meet my mother and sister.”   

"I would like that," he answered simply. 

"Yeah," she replied. "Me too... Chakotay?" 

"Mmhm?" 

“Why?”  She whispered, holding him close.  “Why won’t you push me?" 

Chakotay inclined himself closer to her, smelling the honey-sweet scent of her hair, calculating his response as she continued. “I sleep next to you every night,” she began.  “Wake up with you every morning, pressed against you, Chakotay.  I know every plane of your body, how you feel against me…"  She felt instead of heard her name spoken as his lips touched the skin of her cheek for a second time, making her throat constrict from the weight of emotion that she felt for him. “I just…“

“What?” He asked quietly.  “What do you want me to say?” 

Closing her eyes again, she shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“Do you want me to take advantage of you?” His soft voice sang with a lazily tender sense of amusement. 

 _“What?”_ Kathryn guffawed and the moment was broken.  “What did you just say?” She doubled over, leaning away to look at his laughing, dimpled cheeks. 

“Well?” He nudged her. 

“ _No!”_ She laughed, wiping tears from her eyes.  “That’s _not_ what I meant!”

“I know,” He winked. 

“Thank you,” She kissed the underside of his jaw, exhaling contentedly as she settled against him.  “I needed that.” 

He smiled down at her before his enjoyment erupted into a yawn.  “Sleep?”

“Yes,” Kathryn smiled and gave a nod. “Sleep.” 

The pair burrowed back under the generous duvet and throw blankets haphazardly disarrayed in their banter. His arm folded around her in its inured conformation, he rested his nose in the crook of her neck, breathing her in.  “Just because I haven’t pushed doesn’t mean I don’t want you, Kathryn.”  

She turned her head to look at him as best she could at the awkward angle.   “I know.”

The beguiling innocence that illustrated her features in the faint light coming from the skylight made her irresistible, and in the moment he couldn’t help but press his lips against hers.   Her mouth opened quickly against his as she rolled more fully underneath him, with his hands running up and down her sides - drawing small sighs and gentle shudders from both of them. She felt like quick silver, malleable and responsive, and Chakotay couldn’t help but react to the feelings she conjured inside of him.

When she pulled away there was a smile on her face. “Yes,” she murmured happily. “I know.” 


	39. Chapter 39

The early morning was wet and cold, making him draw the Starfleet issue coat closer around his body as he scaled the remains of the shelter they used to call home.

Its exterior was the same as it always had been, though a little rough for wear here and there particularly after the plasma storm. But even still, he couldn’t help but feel that particular fondness for the structure that Kathryn had described to him some days ago.

Standing here at the door, he let the memories roll over him of when they’d erected the simple puzzle-piece walls together in frantic haste the first morning they’d found themselves down on the planet.

He remembered his formality with Kathryn, and their awkward, strained banter as they laughed over the arrangement of the walls; or how he couldn’t call her _Kathryn_   until she took off the uniform and let her hair hang loose in a plait down her back. And now… now he couldn’t imagine calling her anything else.

That was almost five months ago now, but somehow, in his mind, it seemed longer. Time had such an interesting way of passing without the burden of clocks, deadlines, and schedules. Here, on this planet, there was no such thing as time and their days were increasingly spent in languid enjoyment.

“Reminiscing?”

He turned to the sound of her voice, smiling when he regarded her languid gait as she came towards him. “Just thinking,” Chakotay replied, pointing aimlessly to the structure in front of them. “About the day we assembled the shelter.”

“That seems forever ago, doesn’t it,” Kathryn brushed her sleep-tangled hair out of her eyes. “It was hot that day. Not like it is now.” She watched her breath billow out in front of her. “And I couldn’t wait to have it over with so I could start my research.”

“Yes,” He nodded and took another step to the structure before he opened the door. “I remember.”

Kathryn made a face at his tone. “Was I so awful?”

“No,” He turned to her, his confusion blatant. “Why would you say that?”

“Nothing, just the way you said,” She shook her head. “Nothing.”

He took her hand, squeezing her fingers in his, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

“Our lives were so different then – I feel like we were so different then… And it wasn’t even that long ago,” She mused.

“I was thinking the same thing,” he flashed a grin at her before turning his eyes back to the bare-bones shelter. “About how awkward we were.”

Kathryn laughed loudly, “I remember.”

“So,” he changed the angle of their hands and tangled their fingers together. “First things first.”

“Table,” Kathryn pointed to the workstation whose grandiosity took up nearly the whole of the shelter’s living space. Her head tilted this way and that, trying to figure how they’d fit the monstrosity through the door. “We’ll have to use-“

“The transporter,” he finished with a dejected sigh. “Or we could just take it apart.”

She let go of his hand and walked around the lourdy structure. “I’d rather do that. I remember putting it together. It didn’t take too much work, and we’re going to have to take the rest of the shelter down today anyway.”

He crouched down on his knees, trying to remember the exact mechanism by which they put it together. “We might as well…”

Kathryn set down on her knees next to him and looked up under at the structure holding up the table before she set her hands to work. “I remember when I was a little girl,” her voice strained as she raised her arms to start disassembling. “My mother would always scold me because I was always tinkering with things.”

“Like the replicator?” He chuckled, remembering the few times he’d been to her quarters to drop off a report only find her in front of the device with a hypospanner.

“Of course!” Kathryn rolled her eyes. “That replicator hated me.”

“Seems like we’re having better luck with this one – Kathryn?” he looked over at her.

“What?”

“I’m almost done on this side.”

“So am I,” she looked back the short distance where he was holding up the unsupported side of the table. “We’ll just carry it to the house like this.”

“Sounds good,” Chakotay sat back on his heels and waited for her. “Tell me more about what you used to do as a little girl.”

Kathryn laughed and he felt the piece he was carrying get a little heaver. “Ready to go?”

“Yes,” he looked back and forth from her. “Let’s lay it down and then carry it sideways. We’re never going to get up with it like this.”

“Good call,” Kathryn crawled out from under her segment as he held the table on edge. “Thank you,” she smiled before doing the same. “Now.”

“Now,” he craned over to take one end of the polycarbonate table before starting to walk backwards.

“What was I like as a girl,” Kathryn repeated the question as they walked together back towards the house. “Well, you already know I hated camping trips.”

“That I do,” he glinted.

“You also know that I was very ambitious...”

He laughed, turning his head to make sure he wasn’t walking into the garden. “That goes without saying. Tell me something else.”

“Trust me,” She nodded towards her precious plot. “I’m not going to let you trample my Talaxian tomatoes.”

“I was getting worried there for a minute.” He flashed her a set of dimples and slowed their pace in front of the house. “Now…” he spoke idly while trying to gauge the cabin’s large stone step up.

“I’ll keep back until you’re up to the second step,” She said, measuring his movements.

He breathed a sigh of relief once the table was in the house before they worked together for a second time to reassemble the apparatus. “You were telling me a story,” he caught her eye, making her smile.

“I thought you were the one who told the stories,” Kathryn quipped.

He grunted, turning back to pull the last leg out from the table. “It’s your turn.”

Kathryn manoeuvred herself out from under the monstrosity once she’d re-assembled the heavy table legs. “Oh Chakotay, I can’t remember that far back! I’m too old…” There was an amusedly cantankerous wail in her voice.

“You’re younger than I am!” He jabbed. “Come on. Tell me.”

Kathryn’s gaze turned cheeky as she leaned her weight against the reassembled table. “I won the regional science fair when I was in elementary school.”

Chakotay snorted and rolled his eyes, “Why am I not surprised. Let’s get the chairs,” he said, nodding towards the door again.

Kathryn took a deep quaff of the fresh- rain laden air. “I love the smell after it rains.”

“So do I,” Chakotay took her hand as they walked the short way back to the shelter. “I used to the love how rain smelled on pavement after a season of drought.”

She nodded her agreement as they happened into the shelter again, each taking a chair and heading back out to the cabin. “Actinomycetes?”

“What?”

“Actinomycetes,” She said behind her as they walked back to the cabin. “It’s that smell.”

“Isn’t Actinomycetes a bacteria?”

“It is!” Kathryn affirmed exuberantly. “It’s the one that’s responsible for that smell we like so much.”

“Oh,” He contemplated “I never would have guessed.”

“My father taught me that,” Kathryn evoked. “He loved the rain - lived for days like this. He had pair of green rain boots that sat by the door. They were so wide that I could fit both my legs into one pair.

“When it rained he used to put them on with these big, heavy wool socks and go for walks around the property. Sometimes my mother would go with him. You’d see them off in the distance…” her voice turned wistful. “ They’d be laughing, talking, holding hands… my mother – Gretchen- loved to laugh, and my father always made sure that when he was there she laughed as much as possible. He used to tell her that her smile lit up the room, and her laughter was music to his ears.”

Kathryn’s story of her parents reminded Chakotay of his own memories.  
“They sound like they were very much in love.”

“They were,” Kathryn leaned against the chair she’d placed at the table, her gaze far off – looking at nothing in particular until he took her hand and brought her back to him.

“Hey,” His warmth soothed her hands, and when he beamed those big dimples she couldn’t help but smile back.

“Hey,” She sighed. “Sometimes, it’s like new – when you remember something you haven’t in so long.”

“I know,” His thumb stroked soothingly over hers.

“So,” she nodded back in the direction of the shelter. “Shall we take down the rest? Finally have it off our plates…”

“Yes,” he nodded, keeping his hold on her hand as they walked back towards the shelter.

Kathryn looked up at the sky to the grey clouds, whose dark colour still seemed to promise more rain. “I wonder what they’re doing right now. Where they are…”

“I hope that wherever they are, they’re safe and closer to home,” Chakotay sent his words up as a prayer, hoping that whatever Spirits were listening would grant his wishes.

“Yes,” Kathryn sighed, taking in the emptiness of the shelter before her. “It feels so empty now that we’ve practically gutted it.”

The walls were bare of any cabinets and the beige pattern polycarbonate floors felt flimsy under her shoes. “I always thought the crew would come back for us before a month passed. I thought the Doctor would come up with some brilliant solution and that we’d be on our way back to the Alpha Quadrant by now.”

“So did I,” Chakotay said.

For a moment they stood in silent memory of everything they’d lost, for the future that was to be theirs. “Anyway…” Kathryn’s lips turned a smile as she faced him. “Shall we?”

“Yes,” Chakotay nodded and abruptly disappeared behind the partition where he used to sleep.

“Where…?” Kathryn’s eyes narrowed, confused by his uncharacteristic departure.

“I thought it’d be easier to start with the beds,” he said, sensing her follow in behind him as he precipitously started at his own frame to strip away the rudimentary headboard he’d made before folding the rest of the cot’s edging.

“All right,” She nodded slowly, wondering what had made him so irritated, and back away into her own alcove.

Kathryn was drawn to the white headboard he’d made for her during their first weeks here. That and that bathtub – offerings for her; signs of an affection she hadn’t then been willing to accept.

He worked silently on the other side of the partition – the only sound narrating her thoughts was the one of collapsing, disposable furniture.

Taking the bed and tables down took no longer than fifteen minutes – less time than initially with their erection. Chakotay moved suddenly from his alcove to the living area, starting with the interior walls as he laid them against the side of the shelter.

“Do you need help?” Kathryn found him outside, pulling one of the larger stasis units to the front of the structure.

“Sure,” he nodded, taking off his sweater as perspiration began to bead down his forehead. “Thanks.”

They worked alongside one another in measured synchronicity as the day dragged onwards. Time was impossible to tell, as the sky remained grey. Not soon after they started a light drizzle pelted down from the heavens, soaking them in blessedly cool water. “It feels good,” Kathryn lifted her face to the sky, feeling the water on her cheeks.

“Yes,” Chakotay stopped, his breath nearly ragged as he regarded the half-dismembered shelter. “It does.”

Kathryn licked her lips of the fresh water. “Was there rain on Dorvan?”

“Yes,” He nodded. “During the monsoons rain came every day and night. At first it was welcomed, but by the fourth month, everyone became weary of it.”

“I can imagine,” She looked up at him. “Back to work?”

He sighed, pushing himself off the large stasis container to start back on the last of the standing walls. “Yes, back to work.”

* * *

 

Their work was anodyne with a practiced measure to its cadence as he took down the walls and she slid them into the stasis containers. Soon, all that was left was the flooring, which folded back together like a compact puzzle piece.

“Well,” Kathryn stepped back, surveying how their property looked without the small shelter.

Her cold-reddened nose ran a clear mucous and her eyes began to water before a series of half a dozen sneezes escaped her.

“Bless you,” he put his hand on her back as she wiped her face. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” she chuckled. “Just fine.”

“It looks different now, doesn’t it?” He asked, leaning back again onto the full stasis unit, appreciating how much room was left around the cabin without the presence of the shelter.

“Mm,” Kathryn snuffled, pulling her coat closer around her body. “It does.”

“Hey,” he nudged her gently, running his fingers through her ponytail in sweet concern. 

She smiled up at him. “I’m fine, really. Just dying for a coffee.”

Chakotay rolled his eyes, laughing. “Let’s get a coffee and something to eat,” he said, taking her hand as he started the few steps back towards the cabin. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

Kathryn leaned against him as they walked up the large stone steps into their home. “I’m fine. Stop being such a worrier.”

“I always worry about you,” he said softly, stepping in front of her before running his hands down her arms. “Even on the ship I worried about you.”

“I know,” she mock-glared. “You’re insufferable like that.”

“Don’t tell me I’m the only one who has ever been overly concerned about you.” He chided, undoing the zipper on her jacket before she slipped it down her arms.

“You are,” That half-grin came out of its hiding place, but died quickly as she turned suddenly and let out another series of sneezes.

“I think…” Chakotay turned his head, taking a blanket from the sofa and gently wrapping it around her shoulders. “That you are getting a cold.”

“Impossible,” Kathryn snivelled. “There’s nothing in this environment that would make me ill…”

“You don’t know that,” he argued. “More than likely, it could have been something on your clothes from Voyager. We’ve been doing a lot of work and it’s no secret that we’re not eating enough to maintain our level of work.”

Kathryn acquiesced his logic as she fell back onto the sofa. “Maybe you’re right.”

Chakotay shed his own coat on one of the chairs and walked into the kitchen area where they’d installed the replicator. “Here,” On his return he handed her a bowl of chicken soup and two generous pieces of buttered bread. “Eat this.”

“Coffee?” Kathryn sulked. “Where’s my coffee.”

“After lunch,” he shook his head, amused. “You’re determined to get that caffeine tolerance back, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” she mumbled through a bite of the soup. “Mm, this is good. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, sitting back against the sofa as he watched her.

“Aren’t you going to eat something?”

“Soon,” he said, crossing one leg over the other. “I’m not hungry just yet.”

Kathryn eyed him, “Chakotay don’t do this. The replicator isn’t going to give out anytime soon. Please eat.”

“I will,” he smiled, leaning over to peck her cheek. “But for now I just want to sit with you.”

Kathryn sat back against the sofa, defiant as she crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not going to eat if you won’t.”

His shoulders dropped in defeat before his dimpled smile broke out in a laugh. “Are you always going to be this pig-headed?”

Kathryn stared him down, “Yes.”

“Fine,” he relented at her stubbornness, unable to say no to her as he kissed her again, lingering this time on her rosy red cheek. “You’re impossible to take care of, you know that?”

Kathryn watched him as he walked the short distance to their small kitchen. “I don’t need to be taken care of, Chakotay.”

“I know that, Kathryn.” he said quietly, as he sat next to her with a bowl of fragrant mushroom soup. “I’ve known that since the day I saw you on the Val Jean’s rickety, blurry view screen,” he took a breath and blew on a spoonful of the piquant broth as she did the same. “But I still like to try.”


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much, everyone, for the kind comments and kudos. As always, you are all THE BEST. :)
> 
> Becca

_Chakotay sat in the pilot’s seat of the streamlined Class F shuttle, watching out across the lonely distance as a familiar planet came into view._

_There were rumours swirling around Headquarters about a small planet on the border with Cardassian space – one that was coveted by the species for its strategic locality coupled to a prised cache of endless ecological resources._

_Since its pinnacle in the 2350s, the war between the Federation and the Cardassians, until this point, was more esoteric than tangible. With a handful of skirmishes and minimal bloodshed, it was fought more in conference rooms between talking heads that were willing to compromise little and negotiate even less._

_But the Cardassian's insistent and unyielding request for Dorvan put the Federation in a difficult position. The population inhabiting the planet was small and they would be easy to move – an easy pawn for a grater gain. Moreover, the planet’s concession would cost the Federation little, with the conglomerate having more than enough planets with similar resources. However, the residents living there were Federation citizens, and they were unwilling to leave their home._

_Official delegates had been sent repeatedly to Dorvan, trying to convince the chiefs of the tribes living there that the sacrifice they would be making in leaving would be for the greater good. There was no shortage on the number of offers made to the people for relocation, but every bargain they solemnly refused._

_Until six weeks ago, Chakotay had been burying his head in the sand when the issue was discussed. It was known throughout Headquarters that he was a denizen of the planet, but even still it was information that he never volunteered. Chakotay had been trying to run from his past, not towards it. His life in San Francisco was everything he’d desired since he was a young boy, looking up at the stars and wishing for a different life._

_A week ago the Admirals had summoned him to Headquarters. He’d cancelled his lectures that day with a pit in his stomach; he knew keenly what this meeting was about. Starfleet wanted to use him as their negotiator – a bridge between their world, and the one whose people refused to hear reason._

_So here he was today, bearing swiftly towards the planet he’d been so keen to leave over two decades ago._

_A throng of people gathered around the shuttle to meet him – most of them he did not recognise. But there were two he did – an older lady with long silver-speckled hair, and a young woman who looked exactly like him._

_The air smelled familiar, and with it a thousand memories seemed to topple over him. His sleek Starfleet uniform stood in stark contrast to the simple knits and leathers worn by his people and for the moment he felt keenly out of place._

_The older woman’s gait towards him was decisive, and in two quick strides she clasped her son against her. “Chakotay!”_

_Tears stung his eyes at the feeling of his mother, and the force of his hug nearly crushed her as he sobbed into her hair. “Mama…”_

_The crowd around him looked on in curiosity – the older men and women with a special brand of interest, as his coming was so seldom. More than that, whispers swirled regarding Kolopak’s noticeable absence._

_“Mama,” Chakotay said again as he stepped away from her and wiped the ample wetness from his cheeks._

_“My son,” Sayen looked lovingly at the man in front of her. “We have missed you.”_

_She spoke in Anurabi, his tribe’s native tongue. His own mastery of the language was broken after so many years of scant use. And so he found that his understanding was lacking, as were his words._

_“Brother!” Was a term he instantly recognised in a voice so melodiously familiar that he cried out at the sound of it. Warm arms crushed him against a lithe, laughing body as he similarly enveloped her._

_“Kaya,” He sobbed into her fragrant black hair, unable to restrain the joy at seeing his sister again. “Let me go, or I’ll die before you yell at me!” He laughed, wheezing at the strength of her embrace. “Kaya!” He whelped again after she didn’t let go. Come on, I’m choking!”_

_Sekaya stood back, glaring through the tears on her cheeks. “I should choke you. You deserve to be choked!”_

_“Owch!” He recoiled at the strength of her smack on his arm. “I come home and all I get from you is abuse!”_

_She smacked him again, and went for a third time before he blocked her. “Enough, Sekaya! Mama, she’s hitting me!”_

_Sayen laughed at the once familiar site of her children’s banter. “Okay okay!” She laughed. “Enough, Mina! Let your brother alone for now.”_

_Sekaya’s face was painted in barely supressed irritation. “You’re only getting off easy because you just got here. Wait a couple of days and she won’t listen anymore.”_

_“I’m fearing for my life,” he shot back._

_“You should be,” she glared. “No number of boxing trophies is going to save you.”_

_Chakotay rolled his eyes as his mother took his arm. “I don’t doubt it, coming from you.”_

_“Come, you two,” Sayen waved the onlookers passers by on their way as she took her children’s arms and led them in the direction of home._  
_“Mama wait,” Chakotay looked back at the shuttle, where children were running and hiding at its base. “They’re-“_

_“Children, Chakotay,” She pulled him forward with a gentle squeeze to his arm. “Like you were once. Curious.”_

_He exhaled loudly and followed her lead. “What?” Sekaya prodded. “Afraid one of them will fly it and be better at it than you?”_

_“Mama!” Chakotay looked like a little boy, irrationally unable to take a prod from his younger sister._

_“Sekaya,” Sayen was unable to keep the amusement out of her voice. “Wait until your brother has been here for more than five minutes before you start abusing him.”_

_The woman raised her hands to the heavens in frustration. “Why aren’t you abusing him? He’s been gone for twenty-two years – only coming home once to visit and here you are giving him-“_

_“Sekaya!” Sayen stopped and faced her daughter. “Enough.”_

_Sekaya sulked beside them as the trio walked on in silence. “Where is Papa?” Chakotay asked finally. “Is he all right?”_

_“He’s fine,” Sayan sighed, shaking her head as they happened upon the familial home. Sayen stopped then, facing her beloved son. “You know your father – you two are more alike than you would want to admit.”_

_Chakotay took a deep breath of the arid air and shook his head. “He’s waiting for me to go to him.”_

_Sayen shrugged her shoulders and nodded. “You know how men are with their pride.”_

_“I’m his son,” Chakotay grumbled. “There’s no room for pride.”_

_“Ah,” Sayen chuckled, stepping towards her son as she cradled his face. “Yes. You are his son. One could also argue you have no room for pride, but you do.”_

_“I’m not proud!” Chakotay sulked. And for a moment Sayen saw less a grown man, but her little boy._

_“Oh?” Sekaya glared at him from her mothers shoulder._

_The pair of siblings only glowered at one another until Chakotay relented. “Fine,” he said, turning abruptly walking into the home, whose milieu felt so familiar that it was as if he never left._

_“I’m making dinner,” Sayen said, her tone laced with an endless entertainment as she waltzed in behind him, unfazed by his behaviour. “Your favourite: vegetable stew.”_

_In a moment he felt a wellspring of contrition bubble up inside his core. He put his arms around her, resting his nose in her neck and breathing her familiar scent that he missed for so long. “I’m sorry.”_

_“For being such a nuisance,” Sekaya filled in, earning her a smack as she walked past._

_“Hey!” She whined and hit him back. “Mamma, he hit me!”_

_“Chakotay, don’t hit your sister,” Sayen chuckled. “Spirits, you would think I had toddlers running around rather than fully grown adults!”_

_Sayen turned to her son, cradling his cheeks like she had done not a moment ago. “Go and find Papa. Tell him to come home – dinner is almost ready.”_

_Chakotay put his head down and nodded before taking off his red command jacket and heading back out into the cooling afternoon._

_Kolopak was nothing if predictable, and even after all these years Chakotay still knew where to find him._

_He walked not twenty paces from their home to a clearing where he often sat on a large rock whose surface was unnaturally smooth for something found in what was essentially a desert._

_He looked different now, Chakotay perceived – his hair was longer than it had been and his body was thinner- what little of it he could make out from this angle._

_Chakotay took a breath, steeling himself for his father’s words of disdain for his life and his choices – more so for his reason for returning to his home planet. “Papa,” he said finally._

_Emotion roiled through the older man’s body – joy at hearing his beloved son’s voice, coupled with the anger he felt for the reason he came. “Chakotay.” Kolopak’s voice was wearier now than his son remembered and his face more wrinkled, Chakotay thought, when he turned to him._

_It had been expected, but the happiness that Kolopak felt on physically seeing his son after all this time coursed like sparking electricity through his veins. “Come,” he breathed. “Sit with me.”_

_Chakotay settled next to his father, looking out at the trees that hedged their home. “Why didn’t you come to see me when I came?” He couldn’t keep the bitter hurt from his voice._

_“Perhaps I just did not want an audience.” His father replied simply._

_“Or perhaps it’s because you are angry.”_

_Kolopak nestled further up on the rock, somewhat relieving the nagging ache in his backside. “The people are looking for drama, Chakotay. Why give it to them?”_

_“Who said there had to be drama?” Chakotay countered. “You know what, forget it.”_

_“Don’t be so angry, Chakotay! It was not I who stayed away from his home for so many seasons. Why have you come back now? Because your Federation thinks that by sending my own, I will be more agreeable to their offers?”_

_The younger man exhaled angrily. “Papa…”_

_“We are not so simple minded as your Starfleet believes. We have our reasons for staying,” he emphasised. “This is our home!”_

_Chakotay shook his head in frustration. “Conceding Dorvan to the Cardassians could end this long conflict. Our people would be lauded as heroes – not as hindrances, which is how we are seen.”_

_“Hindrances?” Kolopak scoffed. “A people not wanting to leave their home and the land they love are seen as hindrances?”_

_“Papa,” Chakotay rubbed his eyes in irritation. “They want to avoid a war. These Cardassians are not reasonable – they only see commodity,” he emphasised._

_“Like your Federation.”_

_“No. The Federation wants to help our people. If you don’t leave, the Cardassians will take this planet by force!”_

_“And so we will stay and fight,” Kolopak spoke so lightly it made Chakotay’s blood boil._

_“Papa, no,” The young man shook his head. “This is a fight that our people will not win. You will be slaughtered,” his tone was sharp as his hands argued along with him. “Our men – boys – they don’t know how to fight. The Cardassians are trained warriors – they’re brought up in the ways of killing and battle. They show no mercy. I know – I’ve seen,” he stressed. “Please, take what the Federation is offering. I will talk to the council, I’ll keep begging, but please – don’t stay here.”_

_Kolopak considered his son’s passionate words. “I hear what you are saying, Chakotay. And you may plead your case to the council.”_

_“I can’t force you to leave, Papa,” Chakotay looked into the older man’s face – at the tattoo over his left eye, now wrinkled and faded with age. “But I know what will happen if you don’t leave.”_

_“We will see, my son,” Kolopak smiled at his son’s precious face. “I have missed you.”_

_Chakotay’s eyes ached until all the tears he wanted to shed since coming here overwhelmed him and flooded his cheeks. “I missed you too, Papa.”_

_“You look like your grandfather when he was a young man,” Kolopak wiped away his son’s many tears. “He was very handsome.”_

_Chakotay snorted and cast his eyes downwards in embarrassment. “Have you a wife?”_

_“No!” Chakotay laughed, a blush creeping onto his cheeks. “I would tell you if I had one.”_

_“You will be forty in a few years, Chakotay,” Kolopak reminded him._

_“You sound like mama,” he laughed. “Only she’s had the good grace not to bring it up.”_

_“Why?” Kolopak chided, immune to his son’s embarrassment._

_“Because…” The younger man shrugged. “I don’t know, I just don’t. Maybe I never will.”_

_“Ah, no, Chakotay,” Kolopak glinted. “I’ve seen her in my visions.”_

_“Who?” Chakotay looked up abruptly, searching his father’s face._

_“Someone,” The older man gave a knowingly wise smile. “You will meet her soon.”_

_Chakotay snorted in humoured exasperation and rolled his eyes. “Okay, I will take your word for it. Come on,” he stood and offered his hand. “Mama has made dinner, and I want at least some before Sekaya eats it all.”_

_“So,” Kolopak gave his son a good-natured jab. “You aren’t curious about this woman?”_

_“Okay,” Chakotay walked arm in arm with his father, as though he’d never left and this was their nightly routine. “Who is she?”_

_“I do not share my visions so easily,” Kolopak glinted cheekily._

_“See,” his son laughed. “This is why I don’t ask.”_

_“She is small,” Kolopak smiled, conjuring the profile of the woman he’d seen standing before him. “Beautiful, and not of our people. Her eyes are like the colour of steel and her shoulders are more defiant than yours, if you can believe it.”_

_“Are you supposed to share this with me, Papa?” Chakotay remembered the legends his father used to tell him when he was younger about offending the Spirits and the consequences such deeds would bring._

_“Mama has seen her too,” Kolopak ignored the question as he came to a stop, not ten paces from the house, whose warm light bled out into the darkness of night and carried with it the well-loved scents he’d missed so much. “Whatever happens, Chakotay – to our people – to you,” his pointed finger landed in the middle of Chakotay’s chest. “It happens for a reason.”_

_Chakotay half-believed the words his father spoke, but nodded anyways. “I know, Papa. Now…” he nudged him forward. “Can we eat?”_

* * *

Chin falling forward against his chest, he woke abruptly, momentarily disoriented from the perception of the dream.

Chakotay felt a weight on his lap, and when he looked down he found that Kathryn had fallen asleep on him and the book she’d been reading was on the floor. Perhaps its falling had woken him.

“Kathryn,” groggily he ran his hands through her hair, noticing keenly the heat coming off of her. “Kathryn, wake up.”

She moaned a little and nuzzled her cheek against his thigh. “Kathryn,” he nudged her shoulders. “Wake up, I think you have a fever.”

He heard her swift intake of air before she sat up and looked at him with a tired annoyance painted on her face. “What?”

“I said I think you have a fever.” Chakotay raised his hand to her forehead and felt the heat rolling off of her. “Yeah.”

“You know that’s not a proven method of taking someone’s temperature,” she groused, yawning as she settled back against the sofa while he rummaged in the stasis unit by the door where they held most of their belongings. “Oh, I’ve never been this much of a layabout. All I seem to be doing is sleeping!”

“Well,” he ignored her bellyaching as he took the tricorder from medkit and began. “It’s raining out. And we just spent most of the day taking down the shelter. It’s not like we’re not doing anything.” The monitor beeped and displayed its findings. “Well it may not be accurate, but I wasn’t wrong,” he showed her the readout. “Thirty eight point four. You have a fever.”

Kathryn nodded, yawning as she scrubbed her face in fatigue. “Well I certainly feel it. My whole body aches.”

He replaced the device in the small grey box and set it at their feet. “We should go to bed. I keep falling asleep myself.”

She nodded her agreement as he got up and lent her his hand. “You were talking in your sleep.”

“I was?” He yawned, following her into their room. “What was I talking about?”

“I don’t know,” She copied his action before pulling back the duvets and climbing into the cool bed.

“Oh,” He disappeared back into the sitting room and returned with a hypospray. “Do you want something for the aches and fever?”

Kathryn sat up, groaning as she did so and barred her neck. “Thank you,” she said as she felt the cool hiss against her.

“So what was I saying?” He asked, peeling off the shirt and dropping in on the floor next to the bathroom door.

“I don’t know,” Kathryn shrugged against the soft pillow and closed her eyes. “You weren’t speaking Standard.”

He nodded, waving his hand over the sensor for the bathroom. “Anurabi then.”

“Anu-what?” Her voice was muffled and tired against the pillow.

He turned on the faucet for the shower before turning back into the room while the water turned hot. “Anurabi,” he whispered to his groggy companion. “The language of my people. I’m going to take a quick shower.”

“Fine,” she whispered faintly. “Good night, Chakotay.”

He smiled and watched her as she fell asleep, leaning down to kiss her warm forehead as her breathing quickly evened out. “Goodnight, Kathryn. Sweet dreams.”


	41. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ladssss, super sorry I have been away. I was in Montana for some residency interviews and then I got back, and well this whole being in my last year of med school thing is super overwhelming. I've exams coming up in a few weeks. But I'm trying! Thanks a milllllll!

_“Katie?”_

_Kathryn’s eyes were closed, and she was drifting in and out of blissful sleep. The sun was bright and its brilliance warmed her face. Why was it, she always thought, that it was so much easier to sleep on sunny days?_

_“Katie?”_

_Kathryn turned away from the open window and slit her eyes open. “What is it, Phoebe?”_

_Tight, coveted auburn ringlets framed her sister’s porcelain face. “Are you sleeping?”_

_Kathryn snorted, turning away from the bright golden light spilling in through the gap in the room’s curtains. “What do you want, Phoebe? I’m trying to sleep.”_

_A weight depressed the empty side of the bed. “I know. Wake up, I have something to tell you.”_

_A forceful movement disrupted the bed. Kathryn groused, opening her eyes fully as she shoved the duvet off fully. “God, what, Phoebe!”_

_The younger woman gave her sister a defensive look. “Well if you’re in such a bad mood I’m not going to tell you.”_

_“Phoebe!” Kathryn flopped back against the pillows, exasperated. “You just woke me up from a nap obviously to tell me something. What? Tell me!”_

_Phoebe waited a few seconds, regarding her sister with an appraising eye. “Are you sure you’re not mad?”_

_Kathryn’s eyes rolled back into her head as her hand came up to tiredly slap over her eyes. “I’m not mad,” her voice was forcibly measured as she looked at her sister through cracks in her fingers. “What.”_

_“Well,” A deliciously naughty look came over his sister’s girlish features as she scooted back up against the headboard. “I met someone.”_

_One elegant auburn eyebrow reached near to her sister’s hairline. “This is what you woke me up for?”_

_Phoebe looked sheepishly guilty. “Maybe…”_

_“Phoebe!” Kathryn nagged, before the look on her sister’s beautiful face caused the annoyance to give way to amusement and laughter._

_“I miss you, Katie,” Phoebe said after a time. “Mom and I both do. We never see you anymore. I guess… I just wanted it to be like it was when we were younger; when we’d wake up at midnight and tell each other everything.”_

_Kathryn exhaled, looking at her sister with kind eyes. “I’m sorry, Phoebe.”_

_“Sometimes Mom calls Mark, just to see how you’re doing. You never call us anymore –and when you do come home, all you want to do is sleep.”_

_“I’m tired, Phoebe!” Kathryn argued; annoyed not for the first time that her sister, who didn’t keep the same schedule, was annoyed with her habits._

_“I know, Katie,” Phoebe soothed, taking her hand. “I’m just saying… I miss my sister.”_

_Kathryn nodded, her eyes downcast as she squeezed her sister’s fingers before she looked up with a smile on her face. “So tell me about him.”_

_Kathryn watched as her sister prattled on, saying everything and nothing about the man she was falling in love with while she listened with half attention. Her mind drifted to first to Justin, then to Mark as she harkened both their features and tried to conjure feelings that weren’t there until she saw someone new… Someone who she didn’t quite recognise, but whose qualities seemed just as familiar nevertheless._

_“Katie?”_

_Kathryn looked up at her sister, a permissive guilt painting her features. “Hmm?”_

_Phoebe’s lips turned a half smile, “have you heard anything I said?”_

_Kathryn grinned indulgently, hoping that her feigned nonchalance would fool her sister. “I was just… I was just thinking about someone.”_

_“With that look on your face, I can bet it wasn’t Mark.”_

_“What?” Kathryn looked up again, confusion painting her features. “Why do you say that?”_

_Phoebe brushed off her question with a familiar wave of the hand. “Well, who is he?”_

_“He’s…” The young woman tried again say his name, finding nothing but empty air until salience hit her. “My first officer.”_

_Phoebe looked puzzled until she smiled again. “Are you dreaming, Katie?”_

_“What?” Kathryn’s tone was riddled with confusion._

_“I asked you if you were dreaming.”_

_Kathryn looked around the familiar bedroom, taking in the lace curtains and the many trophies adorning nearly every surface. “No,” she shook her head. “I don’t think so, Phoebe. Why?”_

_Light ringlets bounced as the young girl shook her head. “Tell me about him. Tell me about Chakotay.”_

_“Chakotay,” Kathryn said his name and with it came a gentle smile._

_“Well?” Her sister goaded. “What about him?”_

_Kathryn turned her head this way and that. “Chakotay,” she said again, savouring the name on her lips._

_“Kathryn?”_

_“What?” She giggled, turning to her sister as she noticed something awry. “Phoebe?”_

_The precious form of her sister that she loved so much started to fade. “Phoebe, wait!” Kathryn reached out for her, but there was nothing there – only air as her hand passed through the fading form. “Phoebe!”_

“Kathryn, wake up!”

Her eyes opened suddenly to a scene completely unlike the one she’d found herself in a moment ago. “Chakotay?”

Warm hands smoothed sweat-matted hair back from her face. “You were talking in your sleep.”

“Oh,” she said tiredly, realising as she tried to sit up that every muscle, ligament, and tendon in her body hurt as she tried pulling the heavy blankets up higher – though with limited success.

“You have a fever,” he said, tucking the blankets around her more fully. “I had to sleep on top of the covers last night,” Chakotay chuckled. “You were too warm. Do you want some water?”

“Yes,” she nodded, making the tedious effort to sit up against the cold wooden headboard as he handed her the glass at his feet. “Oh…” She held her head in her hands. “I feel awful.”

“You look it,” his eyes glinted with an impish boyishness.

She snorted into the cup mid sip, spilling some of the water onto the comforter. “I’d hit you if I didn’t feel so horribly.”

“I’m only kidding,” two deep dimples dented precious cheeks. “Not,” he coughed, looking down as she laughed again, further spilling the water onto the duvet.

“Stop making me laugh!” She croaked, still laughing as she coughed up the water she’d choked on. “You’re terrible...”

His smile showed no sign of abating as he took the glass from her before he brought the comforter up around her. “Feel better?”

“A little,” She smiled serenely, lying back down against the soft pillows. “Thank you.”

He sat higher on the bed next to her, watching her as she watched him. “The tricorder doesn’t recognise exactly what you have. It’s a virus of some sort, but that’s all the information it would give me. The good news is that your fever’s been coming down.”

“Did you get any sleep?”

“Some,” he said, fiddling with the covers on the bed and the pillows around her head.

“You’re mothering me again.”

He only smiled in response, ignoring her protest as he continued what he was doing. “Do you want anything?”

“No, Mom,” she sparked as she caught his busy hand and held it in her own. “Just sit here with me.”

He let out a tired sigh, looking down at her hand and the dainty wrist that held it. “Tell me about your dream.”

She closed her eyes and summoned the most recent memory she could. “I dreamt about Phoebe. I was in my bedroom back in Indiana when she came and woke me from a nap to tell me about the man who would become her fiancé. I brushed her off; I wanted to sleep, but she kept at me until I talked to her.”

“I see,” he smiled softly down at her.

“Come lay down,” Kathryn whispered before a yawn stretched her lips.

“I’m okay,” Chakotay’s hands left hers as he tucked the blankets securely around her. “I’m trying to figure out how we can adapt the shelter’s heating unit to the cabin.”

“Please,” she asked again. “Just for a while. Before I go back to sleep.”

He nodded, smiling as he stood up and went around the other side of the bed. The bed was warm with the heat rolling off her body – such a change from the frigid room. “You’re drenched, Kathryn,” he said, sidling up behind her, feeling how damp her shirt was.

Kathryn ignored the comment as she backed into his warmth. “I’m cold.”

He pulled her slight form tightly against his body, foisting one leg over her thigh in an effort to keep her as warm as he could. For a long time they said nothing until he thought she’d fallen asleep again and started to pull away. “Hey,” her voice stopped him, like the tightening hand on his arm.

“I thought you were asleep,” he whispered guiltily, retightening his hold on her.

“Stop running away,” She said, a smile in her voice.

“I’m not running away,” he chided softly.

Kathryn turned in his arms, facing him with tired eyes. “Then stop trying.” Her long hair was tangled into curls, matted against her face. She had never looked more beautiful to him. “What?” She asked, puzzled by the look on his face.

He smiled cryptically and shook his head against the pillow. “Nothing.”

“Your hair’s getting long,” she noticed aloud. “I never knew it was curly.”

He smirked and ran his hand through the thick black strands. “Phoebe’s hair was curly,” Kathryn remembered. “All the way from the roots. Like my mother’s.”

“I’ve always kept it short enough that it wouldn’t curl. Ever since I was a boy. The men in my tribe kept their hair long – my father’s was to his shoulders, and my grandfather’s was even longer.”

“Why did you cut it then?”

He genuflected simply. “I wanted to be different. I wanted an identity different from my people, and then over the years I’ve just gotten used to it. It’s easy, too.”

“I like it like this,” she smiled, eyes glassy and tired.

He nodded, “well then I won’t cut it for now.”

Her eyelids fluttered with the effort of staying open. “Good.”

His hand moved in soothing circles on her back until he felt her breathing even. “Go to sleep, Kathryn,” he held her closer. “I won’t leave.”


	42. Chapter 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lawwwd Almighty! It's been like 2 months since I last updated this. WHAT! On the upside, interviews are almost over and I feel like I can breathe. Downside, you ganstahs probably hate me. In any event, I'm back to normal soon and that means that updates and the END of this should be in sight. Many apologies to everyone reading. Lovvvesss yoouuuu!  
> Becca

The late afternoon air was cold on his skin. When he exhaled, the air steamed out in front of him, and for a moment made him think of the fragrant smoke from his father’s pipe.

In the distance the colourful birds that inhabited the planet squawked and squalled their nightly song, giving background to his thoughts as he surveyed their growing garden.

The Talaxian tomatoes wouldn’t last the winter, he surmised, as he looked at their tall stems, now browning after their all too brief summer. Bending lower, he assessed the crop of squash and potato, which seemed to be coming along nicely. He drew a breath and exhaled again, loudly this time as he picked what would be the last of the tomatoes off their weary stems.

The brevity of their life was disheartening and brought up a familiar contention: the sustainability of source of food other than the replicator.

The preliminary scans from Voyager revealed little of this planet’s prospective climate patterns. Questions began to fill his mind: _what of the autumn? Was its duration similar to that on Earth? What about winter? Was there snow? Ice…?_

A myriad of other similar queries rolled over in his mind until he realised something rather obvious. “ _A green house,_ ” he mumbled. “Now, why haven’t I thought of that before…?”

Chakotay remembered tending to one in his youth while Dorvan’s terraforming was still in its preliminary phases and the soil was impossibly harsh and inhospitable to growth. In spite of the climate, they’d been able to keep the houses moist and warm, yielding a consistently healthy crop year round.

He stood, hands heavy with presumably the last of the tomatoes, and turned around to survey the most suitable location for his next project. The best place, he thought, would be in the large clearing in front of the house, or to the side. There, sunlight was most ample.  It would need to be large enough to hold a good crop, and sturdy enough to withstand the strong winds and storms that rolled through the valley.

It wouldn’t be easy, he sighed, as he stepped back up to the house. Certainly not easy…

He opened the door quietly into the stillness of their home. Setting the tomatoes down on the table, he walked as quietly as he could to the space of their bedroom. Chakotay smiled when he found her; sprawled out on her back, taking up nearly the whole bed. Her mouth was open in a quiet snore, and her hair painted a messy halo around her face.

If he could have told himself two years ago that this would be a sight he’d see, his past self would never have believed him. Leaning against the doorframe, Chakotay remembered a time not too long ago when he’d regarded this woman with gentle awe.

He never believed she was attainable – and tried not to think of her in such a pedestrian light. That was, perhaps, the schema that she had set out to create, and one that he tried hard to abide by. But emotions and feelings were never so simple, especially for someone whose passions tried hard to consume them.

He took one last lingering look before turning back and sauntering into the kitchen. When they’d built the home, he’d left ample space for expansion of the room, believing they’d need more than a rudimentary replicator and cabinetry.

Next they would need a stove – something that could not only be used for cooking, but also lend the house warmth in the cold winter months. So much of this was new to Chakotay – _so many_ things he hadn’t considered when they’d initially learned of their impending isolation.

He sighed and found his seat at the messy workspace, turning his mind back to the matter of the greenhouse before he started on anything more ambitious...

Never having built a greenhouse before, he drew the small console to him and began to search the database.  Absently, he reached for his replicated parchment and a rudimentary pencil. Kathryn had initially teased when she’d seen the archaic utensils. _“I like using paper,”_ he’d said. _“It’s basic; I like the way the pencil feels in my hand; how my palm sounds as it slides along the paper.”_

The structure would have to be simple – nothing as elaborate as the one he’d tended to when he was a boy. He planned to salvage parts from their old shelter – bits of the polycarbonate infrastructure that he knew would stand up to the weather they’d seen truculent snippets of.

Within an hour he’d drawn up a plan; they’d need to replicate a thin, transparent plastic – rudimentary, but time-tested. He calculated that it would take less of the shuttle’s replicator (as well as being more time-efficient) than would the standard glass.  

He hadn’t realised how rigoured his body had become until he sat back and was released from the intense focus that he’d given the project in front of him. Absently, Chakotay ran his hands over the knotted muscles in his neck, releasing the tension wrought by his concentration. He smiled; Kathryn was prone to the same.

Recalling their first few weeks on this planet, Chakotay conjured the image of Kathryn hunched over her workspace as she feverishly worked to find a cure that would let them leave this place. One night he’d had enough of her aimless self-ministrations and offered to give her a neck rub. That was the first time he’d well and truly touched her in any meaningful way.

She’d been nearly different then - a little cautious around him. She treated him like a kind stranger; like she was still a little unsure of their newfound roles without the rigidity that Voyager’s hierarchical structure had offered.

Things were different now, though. The intervening months had given them a new perspective. He’d found that she’d put away much of the bravado with which she’d carried herself, though she was still very much the woman she’d been on the ship.  But now her laughter came more easily, as did her stories, affection, and playfulness. And there was a newfound softness to her tone, subtly unlike the harshness with which she’d laced her voice for command.

 _“Chakotay?”_ He heard the soft syllables of his name echo off the walls in their bedroom. _“Chakotay?”_

He was up out of his chair before she finished saying his name. “In here, Kathryn.” Chakotay smiled when he saw her. “How are you feeling?”

“Awful," she grimaced. "I feel awful. Everything hurts – my bones, my joints, my head… even my eyelids!”

He gave a half-grin and took her hand as she sauntered out into the living space. “Are you hungry?”

“God, no,” Kathryn gave a pained exhalation through her nostrils as she sat down on the sofa. “Just thirsty.”

“Wait here,” he squeezed her hand before he let go. “I’ll get us some tea.”

Kathryn nodded and laid back. “What were you doing? I heard you leave and come back inside. Where did you go?”

“Outside, just,” he spoke over his shoulder. “For some fresh air. I walked around the house, looked at the garden, and that got me thinking.”

“Oh?” He reappeared with two steaming mugs of tea. The mint felt good on her throat, she thought, and so did the warmth. “Thank you, Chakotay. The mint is nice.”

“I thought we could do with something different."

“What were you working on?”

Chakotay looked around the room until his eyes fell back on hers, “A greenhouse,” he said. “I went outside before the sunset and I noticed that our Talaxian tomato plants are dying. It’s getting too cold,” he sighed. “We’re going to need somewhere where we can grow our plants even into the winter months. And god forbid the winters are long, we’ll put even more of a strain on our replicator…”

Kathryn sat, digesting what he’d said. “So many things to consider,” she said quietly. “I didn’t even think about that before you mentioned it. I knew that winter was coming – that it was getting colder out. But I completely overlooked the garden…”

“It’s not like we haven’t been busy enough with everything else that’s going on,” he chuckled and took another sip of his tea. “Oh by the way, I temporarily gave up on trying to adapt the shelter’s environmental controls to the cabin…”

Kathryn smiled wearily, “short attention span, Chakotay?”

He shrugged. “A little. I’ll come back to it tomorrow. I just wanted to do something different for a while.”

Her hand wrapped midway around his bicep and squeezed softly. “I didn’t mean that.” She shook her head. "I didn't mean..." 

“What?” He looked at her, perplexed.

“I didn’t mean to imply that you should do everything yourself.“

“Kathryn,” he laughed and kissed her cheek.

She smiled crookedly and looked up at him with pitiful eyes. “What?”

He laughed again and drew her closer.  She settled against him and sighed before a companionable silence settled between them for a time. For a time she was so still and silent that he assumed she’d fallen asleep again until she cleared her throat, “Chakotay?”

“Yes, Kathryn.”

“I’m exhausted.”

“So I gathered," he snickered, turning his head down as far as he could to bury his nose in her hair. 

The silence reigned again between the pair as they sipped their lukewarm tea. Kathryn’s body felt heavy again, achy, but warm and comforted at the same time. “Thank you, Chakotay,” she whispered. “For looking after me… for everything you’ve done here to make our lives more comfortable.”

He sighed, touched by her words, and pulled her body closer to his.

“So, a greenhouse, huh?”

“Yes,” he nodded against her hair. “I’m going salvage most of the materials from the remains of the shelter and then replicate the rest.”

“Sounds good. I’ll help.”

“I don’t suppose those farmers in Indiana taught you anything about greenhouses?”

“Nope!” She yawned. “Not a thing.”

“That’s all right, then,” Her yawn was contagious and he suddenly realised how tired he was. “Bed?”

“Bed,” Kathryn gave a nod ambled herself to stand, wobbling a bit before Chakotay’s warm hands steadied her hips.

“Okay?”

“Just fine,” she snorted. “Thank you. Let’s get to bed. It's cold in here.”

“That it is,” he shivered, realising only now just how chilly it was without her warmth next to him. “I’ll reprise working on the environmental controls tomorrow.  Hopefully we can fit the solar panels to the roof and wire the cabin before the temperatures get any cooler.”

“I’ll help with that too,” Kathryn yawned again as she settled back into bed and pulled the covers around her. “Come on, Chakotay," She looked up at him pleadingly as he shed his work pants and sauntered into the bathroom.  "It’s too cold in this bed if you’re not here.”

Chakotay smiled at that, disappearing behind the bathroom door for a moment.  She heard the toilet flush and the sink run before the door opened and she felt his body move in behind her. “The bathtub looks good in there, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” Kathryn said and turned around to face him. “It looks beautiful.”

Her arms wove around his chest, holding her to him as she burrowed into his warmth. “I’ve been sleeping all day; I shouldn’t be tired!”

“You’re sick.” Strong hands rubbed her back and warmed her. “Anyways, it doesn’t matter here. There are no schedules – no such thing as time, really.”

“No,” she breathed. “I guess not. Still.”

“Have you always been this hard on yourself?” He smiled as her leg insinuated itself between his. “Or is this a recent phenomenon?”

Kathryn’s laugh was muffled against the material of his sweatshirt. “Not a recent phenomenon. My sister was always trying to get me to lighten up.”

“I think I would have liked Phoebe.”

“You would,” she smiled. “Too much. You would have liked her _too much_. I wish you had the chance to meet her.”

“So do I,” Chakotay whispered. “But you’ve told me so much about her, I feel like I already have.”

“That’s the only way we’ll keep them with us,” she tightened her hold on him. “The only way they won’t feel so far away.”

“Yes.”

He felt small puffs of her breath against his chest through the thick sweater. “This feels right, doesn’t it?”

“What does?”

“This,” she held him tighter. “Being with you like this… it always feels right in a way I can’t seem to explain to myself.”

Overcome, the words stuck in his throat, unable to escape, so instead he tightened his grip on her – until there was no space between them. “Yes,” he said finally. “It does.”


	43. Chapter 43

When she woke in the morning he was still sleeping. The air inside the cabin was bitterly cold such that her breath was visible in the crisp air, but, for the first time in a week, the glorious sun bled in through the skylight over their bed.

She smiled at the feeling of its warm rays on her face and burrowed further beneath the covers in search of the heat source next to her. He was laying face down, arms tucked beneath him with his head turned away from her.

“Chakotay,” Kathryn wound her arm around his broad shoulders, but he hardly moved. “Well, I’ll let you sleep then,” she whispered, suddenly feeling selfish for trying to wake him when he usually let her be. For a moment she thought of Saturday mornings when she was a little girl; when she would rush into Phoebe’s room and shake her until she woke up just so she’d have someone to play with.

She picked up her flimsy robe off the end of the bed and threw it around her shoulders, taking a mental note that they’d soon have to replicate a warmer wardrobe if they were going to be comfortable this winter.

She felt better than she had in the last few days; her body no longer ached, and all that lingered was a slight cough and sniffle. Kathryn wasn’t used to bearing out sickness. If she had been on the ship, she’d run to the Doctor for a hypo and be done with the whole thing just as soon as it had started. But now, on this planet’s isolation, she was gathering a new respect for the body’s natural healing process.

She stood absently in front of the replicator and issued her standard order, “Coffee. Black.” The warm beverage materialised in front of her and she savoured it after the short hiatus during her illness.

She turned and looked around the room to where disjointed bits of the shelter lay against the wall – mostly the heating and cooling units and all their associated wires and parts. Mentally, she drew a plan to assemble them – where they would go, and how to programme them apart from the easy construct of the shelter… It wouldn’t be easy, she frowned, nor would it be aesthetically pleasing. But then again, she sighed; it wouldn’t matter if they had heat…

Kathryn’s eye caught on the harried workspace that they shared, her eyes immediately drawn to the stack of papers haphazardly strewn all over the space he claimed as his own. She smiled when she thought of Chakotay with paper and how she’d teased him about it when it made its first appearance on their bench.

The simple item reminded her of her family. Growing up, she remembered heaps of it around their Bloomington home. Gretchen read books only on paper – no padds. There was something organic, she always used to say, about holding words. It made the stories they illustrated much more real –so beautifully tangible.

Edward was similar to his wife. Though, instead of books, in the little time that he had to himself, he used to sketch. It was something about her father that she’d never appreciated when she was younger, but after he died she found heaps and heaps of pages. Most of them held portrayals of their farm, bits of wildlife, trees and flowers. But her favourites were those she found in a well-loved notebook on his office desk.

In it, she found beautifully detailed images of her mother, herself and Phoebe. There were some of her mother that dated back all the way to before she was born. Those pages were browned and on them carried an earthy scent that brought with it memories of happier times.

Kathryn downed the rest of her cooling beverage before she set down the cup and examined the schematics he’d drawn up the night before. They were impressive, she mused – much more creative than anything she’d have been able to muster. Knowing he wouldn’t mind, she took the liberty of making a few additions.

“Correcting my work?” She heard the tired smirk in his voice.

“Just a little,” she drawled, setting down the pencil as she turned to him.

“Good,” he rubbed his eyes and sat down on her chair and rolled over to her side. “Coffee smells nice.”

“Want a cup? I could do with another myself…”

“Please,” His grin widened. “And make mine with plenty of cream and sugar.”

“Blech!” Kathryn grimaced. “You ruin it!”

“Or make it taste better,” he laughed as she disappeared behind the next wall. “Depends on your perspective.”

“It’s a shame we can’t grow coffee here on this planet,” she scowled, coming back into view with the goods in hand. “I wonder if this planet has its own version of it…”

“I doubt it. Thank you,” he said over the brim of his coffee cup. “I wonder if replicated beans would even grow a plant.”

“Don’t know…” She blew on the hot beverage before taking a hearty sip. “In any event, this is hardly the climate.”

“This may not be, but we’ve yet to discover other places on the planet where conditions might be more favourable to such a delicate plant.”

A silly thought occurred to Kathryn and made her laugh. “I can’t believe we’ve been here nearly six months and haven’t explored within a 20 mile radius of our home.”

“We’ve been busy. Plus,” he sighed. “We have our whole lives to explore.”

“Our whole lives,” she echoed solemnly. “Well maybe in that time we will find a way to grow coffee here.”

“Knowing you, Kathryn,” he glinted. “You’ll find a way to engineer some genetically modified coffee hybrid that’s partial to growing at more variant climates…”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You never know, Chakotay… You never know.” 

* * *

 

“You sure you’re feeling okay?”

Kathryn shot a smile over her shoulder as they opened the stasis units against the side of the cabin. “You’re mother henning again. Were you always this bad?”

Chakotay shrugged. “I don’t know,” he chuckled. “I never had anyone to mother hen… But my mother used to baby Sekaya and me when we were sick. Maybe I get it from her.”

“That’s sweet,” Kathryn removed her sunglasses from her eyes and brushed the loose hair away from her face. “My mother was the same way.”

“It seems to be a theme with mothers,” he glinted before looking back down at the walls of their once home. “But I’m serious, Kathryn, how are you feeling?”

“I’m fine, Chakotay. Really,” she smiled genuinely at him. “Better than I have in days.”

His features gave a semi-exasperated expression before turning the phaser over in his palm and thumbing the setting he desired. “Back to normal?”

Kathryn rolled her eyes, “Yes, Chakotay. I’m fine! Can we just begin?”

Once again, he shook his head in diverted vexation and made her laugh. “Right.”

* * *

 

They spent the morning measuring and cutting precise pieces of one of the shelter’s walls until they had sixteen identical columns for the greenhouse's main structure, along with three sets of supports for the roof.

“I think this idea is better,” Kathryn stepped back and surveyed their work. “Rather than having a free standing structure, if we attach it to the house, there might be a greater stability.”

“Agreed,” Chakotay coughed and joined her where she stood as he re-holstered his phaser. “I’m famished, Kathryn. Let’s go inside and eat.”

She nodded in agreement, only noticing now how hungry she was as they walked back into the cabin. “When we first got here, I seemed to underestimate how much work this whole thing would be.”

“I was thinking the same this morning. Starfleet survival training never prepared us for building a home and actually have to live in it long term.”

“Certainly not! Thank you,” she said as he held the door for her. “What are you in the mood for?”

Chakotay made a beeline for the replicator. “Something hearty,” he mused, looking at the touch-display. “Chilli?”

“And cornbread.” Kathryn’s mouth watered.

He punched in their choices before their meals materialised in front of them.

Kathryn eyed their meal appreciatively as he brought both trays over to their workspace. “It smells wonderful. I’m starving.”

“I bet,” he ruminated before swiftly tucking into the generous bowl in front of him. “You haven’t eaten much, if anything, in the last few days.”

“Neither have you,” she pointed out, mouth full of chilli and a bite of cornbread.

The pair scarfed their meals in silence before Chakotay sighed and sat back in his chair, bowl scraped clean. “That was good.”

“Mm,” Kathryn smiled, taking the last bite of her own meal. “It hit the spot.”

He smiled cheekily and pushed his tray out of the way as he looked at her. “What?” She asked, slowly chewing the last of her bread, nearly self-conscious at his admiration. “You’re staring.”

“Nothing,” he reached forward and raised his thumb to her chin. She looked on, amused, as he wiped a smear of tomato sauce. “Just that you’re a grub.”

He made her laugh again; thankfully the bread was already swallowed before she did. “I was hungry!” she choked.

Laughter gave way to quiet contentment as the two considered each other. “Dessert?”

“No, thank you. This was enough,” she said softly. “Back to work?”

The pair headed back outside just as their sun disappeared behind dark clouds. “Do you think another storm is coming?”

Chakotay’s line of sight followed hers as she watched the change in their milieu. “I hope not,” he sighed, invigorated with a new sense of anxiety to finish.

They only waited a moment before turning their attention back to the task at hand. Using the left over stone they’d not used for the foundation of their home, they made a floor for the greenhouse. And with the timber chaff, Chakotay fashioned ten small identical pieces with which to fasten the beams to the divots he was phasering into the stone.

For several hours they worked together in silence. The weather grew colder and the sky increasingly darker. Blessedly, though, there was no rain.

“I’m just about set with the beams,” Kathryn broke the silence. She sat back on the wet grass, too focused to care about the sodden nature of her clothes. “I hope this works.”

“It is a little unconventional,” he chuckled. “Are you ready to set them?”

“Yes,” She cleared her throat and stood up from the grass. Together they picked the first beam and aligned the spoke she’d attached to the divot he’d made. Thankfully, they fit according to their plan.

Chakotay jumped up on the left over cargo container he often used in lieu of a ladder and pounded the beam into the ground for added stability. “Looks good.”

Kathryn smiled. “One down, eleven more to go…”

“Well have to figure an energy efficient way to heat the greenhouse. Articles I’ve read have suggested an electric heater.”

“Which we don’t have,” Kathryn mused. “What else?”

“Well, there was something I was thinking about building for the house, which would also work for the greenhouse – a wood-burning stove.”

“A stove…” Kathryn echoed. “Now what hadn’t I thought of that?”

He laughed at the look on her face. “That’s what I said when I came up with the idea of the green house.”

“Seems like I’d be lost if not for you with me, Chakotay.”

“Well we already knew that,” he teased, earning a playful shove. “Kidding!”

“No you’re not,” She snorted. “Come on, let’s finish the rest of these before we call it a day.”

“The stove would need to be small,” Chakotay explained as the plans came together in his mind. “Small enough so that it wouldn’t generate enough heat to melt the Visqueen, but warm enough that the plants wouldn’t freeze.”

“After we finish, we’ll have to start mapping this planet’s weather patterns more diligently.”

“Agreed.” Chakotay pounded the last of the beams into the ground before he stood back and surveyed what they’d done.

He looked to her for approval, and when he saw the contentment on her face, he was happy. “It looks good, doesn’t it?”

“All in a day’s work,” She stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. It was meant to be friendly, but when her lips lingered on his skin, she was struck that this was the first time she’d kissed him since all those weeks back.

The course of their romance had been staggered, though neither of them seemed to notice amidst the harried pace of their lives recently. However, what they felt for one another was still there – changing, growing…

Chakotay held her eyes and smiled boyishly – like he knew all of her secrets; like he had a plan he hadn’t let her in on.

“What?”

He shook his head slightly and moved a long piece of hair out of her face. “Nothing.”

She snorted and rolled her eyes before leaning up again, unable to stop her herself as she gently kissed his upturned lips. “You’re up to something.”

He caught her waist and held her to him. “Oh?”

“Mm,” she kissed him again, this time concentrating on the corners of his mouth. “I just know it…”

His hands wandered upwards, stopping at her ribcage below her breasts. “Well then,” Chakotay caught her as she went to leave and kissed her properly – better than he had all those weeks ago. “You’ll just have to find out…” He said as she pulled away, swaying a little on her feet as she did so.

When she opened her eyes, he was smirking at her. “Now I know you're definitely up to something.”


	44. Chapter 44

The rain had started abruptly in the afternoon – putting a halt to the steady trail of work they were doing on the greenhouse. Hoping the rain would abate, they set their sights on work inside. However, that was hours ago, and the downpour still showed no signs of letting up.

Blue eyes darted irately, back and forth between both sides of the mess that surrounded her.

Red wire, blue wire, green wire… Dammit. Too many wires…

_“Kathryn!” Her mother’s voice was tinged with a heavy exasperation. “What in the name…?”_

_“It’s not working right,” The young girl said. “It burnt my lunch. There’s something wrong with it!”_

_Gretchen stared at her daughter with wide, questioning eyes. “So you decided to disassemble it?!”_

_“Yes,” The teen huffed, throwing an aberrant screw off to the side. “There’s something wrong with the-“_

_“Kathryn,” Gretchen’s tone was practised with a barely concealed frustration. “I’m going to leave for an hour. When I come back, I want the replicator back in one piece – working. Is that understood?”_

_“Or you could just come back with a new replicator…”_

_“One hour, Kathryn!”_

Kathryn laughed in spite of herself.

Her companion looked over from his own tangle of wires. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” She shook her head and swivelled to look at him. “I was just remembering the time I took apart the replicator when I was seventeen. My mother came home and found me on the floor, surrounded by wires and parts, just like I am now. I can only imagine how I looked!” Kathryn continued her laughter. “I can still remember how angry she was with me!”

Chakotay shared in her amusement. “I can see it actually.”

“I had a habit of doing it. It drove my mother crazy. By the time I left for the Academy, I must’ve taken apart and put back together nearly every piece of technology in the house.”

He chuckled and put down his own project. “Do you want some help?”

“I wouldn’t say no to it,” she grinned, moving aside for him to sit down next to her. “I’m trying to figure out the best way to connect the parts to the generator.”

He picked up random pieces of copper wire and examined them. “Too bad it doesn’t come with a manual.”

“Somehow I don’t think Starfleet intended for their shelter to be disassembled and used for spare parts on a deserted planet somewhere in the Delta Quadrant.”

“Well,” Chakotay cleared his throat. “It’s certainly something to consider. I think we should bring it up at the next referendum on standard Starfleet survival… paraphernalia… Don’t you think?”

“Oh,” she smiled. “Most definitely.”

“Well,” he looked down in his hands. “Which goes with which?”

Kathryn rolled her eyes playfully at him. “I’ve been trying to figure that out for the last hour…”

He sighed matter of factly and rubbed his neck. “Right. Well, no one gets it right the firs time. We’ll run the green wire to the generator, and try different combinations from there.”

Kathryn shrugged her agreement and set to twisting the ends of the green wires together while he did the same with the blues.

* * *

 “Well…” Kathryn stood back and looked sideways at the messy conglomerate.

“We’re not going to be winning any awards for interior design…”

“No,” She shook her head quickly. “Definitely not.”

“But!” He walked back over to the wall and held his hand over the radiator, smiling back at her with a boyish exuberance. “It works.”

“That it does,” she smiled at the pride on his face. “We have heat.”

“That we do. And a working generator.”

“And a working generator. And…” She looked outside, happy to see rays of a late afternoon sun peaking through the dark clouds. “It’s stopped raining.”

His grin widened. “If we finish the greenhouse today, I can work on building planters tomorrow for it.”

They dressed quickly in warmer clothes and work boots before hurrying outside to the side of the house. Under their feet, the ground was wet and their rubber boots slopped and stuck messily into the sodden earth.

“We’ll need shelving units as well to maximise space,” Kathryn thought out loud. “And the sooner we uproot what’s left of the tomato crop the better.”

“Agreed. Kathryn?”

“Mm,” She nodded, looking up at him on the cargo container. “What?”

“Pass,” he pointed to the hammer at her feet. “Please.”

“Oh,” she looked down before handing him the object. “Are you almost ready for the Visqueen?”

“Almost,” He mumbled through the nail he held between his teeth. “I hope it’ll stand up to the winds…”

“It should,” Kathryn rubbed the thick transparent plastic between her fingers. “If it doesn’t, we’ll have to replicate glass. It might be a better option in the long run…”

He sighed heavily and jumped down from the container. “I hope this holds.”

Kathryn walked to the far side away from him and pressed her weight against the beams they’d fastened earlier in the day. “Time will tell. Visqueen?”

“You’re mad for the Visqueen today,” he glinted.

“I’m cold,” she emphasised. “And wet, and ready to go back into our heated house.”

“Agreed,” he nodded, laughing as he came to help her unravel the plastic. “We can set the nails ten inches apart on the wooden beams at the top and the bottom.”

“If we have enough Visqueen, it might be worth double layering it,” Kathryn’s voice strained as she jumped up on the cargo container before he handed her the nails and hammer.

“Sounds fine,” He watched her progress as she quickly nailed the plastic in place as he held the roll taut.

“I wonder what the crew is doing right about now,” Kathryn mused.

“What trouble Tom is causing,” he chuckled, pulling the plastic taut against the supports.

“What new and stomach-turning creations Neelix is concocting in the mess hall!”

“Please,” Chakotay held his stomach with his free hand. “I don’t think my gastrointestinal tract can handle the memories of Neelix’s creations.”

“Some of them were awful weren’t they?” Kathryn bemoaned. “But even still, I loved going to the mess hall and seeing what he’d made, even if just for entertainment value.”

“Same,” he chuckled. “I miss it, sometimes.”

“Me too,” Kathryn’s eyes closed as she remembered her precious ship before she opened them and met his gaze. “Well,” she sighed, digging in her pocket for another small nail. “Back to work…”

"Back to work," he echoed, pulling the plastic tighter still as she worked quickly at nailing the top. "Tell me something else."

"Tell you what?"

"I don't know," he said. "About your childhood, and your family."

"I don't know what else to tell you," Kathryn breathed, reaching the end of the far wall. Jumping down, she let him move the cargo container to the last stretch before she hopped back up and started on the final leg before they finished for the evening. "Why don't you tell me something?"

"What do you want to know?" He chuckled.

"Tell me about your class."

"At the Academy?" He asked redundantly. "I only taught for three years."

"I remember hearing about it, you know," she teased. "About the handsome tactics instructor."

"Youngest tactics instructor in the Academy's history," he boasted jokingly. "I loved that job. If the war had never started... if things hadn't happened the way they had..." His voice grew sad and wistful. "I would have been happy to do that the rest of my life."

"Knowing you now, that doesn't surprise me," she smiled. "I can see you being a teacher. I'm finished here. I'll start cutting the from the top?"

"Sure," he took the scissors from his utility belt and handed them to her. "Why, do I look like a teacher?"

"What?" Kathryn cut a precise edge, leaving a solid two inches for him to nail to the side of the cabin.

"You said you could see me being a teacher. Thank you," he took the scissors at an awkward angle and continued the cut to the ground. "Well?"

"I didn't mean it like that - not in the way you look. It's the way you are," she smiled. "You're patient, and kind. I can see why your class was so popular. Do you want to do the roof today or leave it for tomorrow?"

"Leave it," he sighed, laying the plastic roll on the stone floor of the house for until tomorrow. "I'm getting cold. And hungry."

He helped her down and took her hand as they walked the short bit back into their home. "It's warm."

"Yes," he smiled, still holding her hand as he closed the front door. "Finally."

"You can let go of my hand now," Kathryn smiled crookedly at him, squeezing his fingers in hers. "I need it to take my coat off."

Deep dimples showed on his cheeks as he smiled. The hand that held hers pulled her to him. "What?" She whispered, eyeing him quizzically - amused at the look on his face.

"Nothing," he sighed happily, letting go of her as he ran his hands down the length of her torso to lay at her waist. "Just..."

She smiled as he kissed her, opening her mouth under his as their tongues ran over each other. Goosebumps broke out over her skin when he deepened the kiss, a sigh drawn from her throat at the contentment of being with him like this. "Just what?" Kathryn whispered breathlessly amused when the kiss fell away.

He smiled and leaned his forehead against hers. "Just nothing."


	45. Chapter 45

_“Ohh…”_

A long, satisfied breath escaped her lips as she sank deeper into the tub of hot water.  She leaned back and savoured the feeling of warmth against her back – how it soothed the ache in her shoulders, and that one stubborn knot in her neck.

With each passing day, she was learning how to better savour the smaller extravagances of modern life – most of which she’d previously paid little mind. Now, she luxuriated in something as small as a comfortably heated room, a warm blanket, and, most importantly, a perfectly hot – not nearly scalding – bath of water.

She opened her eyes idly to watch the deep blue, star-speckled night’s sky framed in the trees rustling harshly in wind.

The storm had resumed not long after they’d retired for the evening. All through dinner, Chakotay had nervously surveyed the greenhouse – seeing how it held against the wind that the storm brought with it. “It’ll hold,” she’d promised. And with a weary smile, he’d pretended to believe her enough to finish his meal and subsequently resume his sand painting.

In the tub, Kathryn’s arms moved like that of sloth; with a an aimless sense of purposefulness, she reached for the sponge floating past her before she slowly soaped it and ran it over her legs for what must be the third time now.

Faintly came his soft footsteps. _“Uh, Kathryn?”_ She heard a smile in his voice from the other side of the door.

“What?”

_“Are you nearly finished in there?”_

“No,” she replied simply, smirking through her answer. “The water’s still warm.”

_“Oh...”_

“Is everything all right?”

 _“Everything’s fine. I just thought I'd check to see if you’d drowned…”_ He deadpanned.

“Just about!” She laughed at the image his words conjured.

 _“You’ve been in there for almost an hour. And,”_ he cleared his throat. _“Well…”_

She turned herself towards the door. “Well?”

_“Kathryn, I…I really need to go to the bathroom…”_

“Oh!” She sat up and the water made a giant wave against the sides, with some splashing onto the floor.

 _“And,”_ he chuckled, imagining the scene inside. _“I don’t think we’re yet at that point in our relationship where I can just come in and...”_

A great snort left her as she stood, with steam rising from her and the bath water. “It’s just as well,” she chuckled as she examined her fingers in the low light. “I’m turning into a giant prune!” Wrapping herself in a towel she opened the door with a flourish, “All yours.”

“Thank you!” He rushed past her and shut the door. _“I did think about going outside,”_ he called. _“But, uh, it’s cold.”_

Kathryn smiled back towards the bathroom. “Chakotay, don’t be silly.”

 _“Do you want to get back in?”_ He called over the toilet flush. _"Or…?”_

“No,” she called back. “It’s okay to let drain.”

He looked properly apologetic as he came out into their bedroom. “Sorry.”

“I’m the one who should be sorry,” she told him. “I was in there for a long time.”

He shook his head, smiling at the inured sight of her in a towel with her long hair dripping onto the floor. “I built that tub hoping you’d use it.”

“Well,” she turned to him as she flipped her hair up into the ghost of a bun she wore it in on the ship. “I do. I love a good bath. Now,” an impish grin took over her features as she met his gaze and spoke slowly with an almost sultry hint to her whiskey voice. “Are you going to stand there all night, with that look on your face, staring at me in this towel?”

Chakotay pursed his lips, squelching a guffaw before he barely composed himself. “I’d gladly stare at you _not wearing_ that towel…”

“Is that so?” Her smile broadened until it stretched her features and lit up her face. “Well,” she turned her back again, enjoying the banter as she took her white robe and another garment from the top drawer of their armoire.

“Mmhm,” he hummed, still smiling, rooted to the spot as he continued to watch her. 

She rolled her eyes, laughing as she pivoted back to him. “You might just get your wish.”

“Oh?” Eyebrows to his forehead, he watched her as she disappeared behind the bathroom door. “Is that so?”

_“It’s a promise!”_


	46. Chapter 46

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, lads! Ye are all the best, you know that! I really super appreciate you all hanging in there with me through all of this and being so lovely.

“I see that smile…” Her voice was warm, languid and joyful. “Not really a smile… a smirk is more like it.” 

The silly grin plastered to his face widened as he kept his eyes out the window, looking at the mess the storm had left in his wake. “Smirk, huh?”

“Yes,” A kiss found its way between his shoulder blades as two lithe arms wrapped around his bare waist. “You’re smirking.”

* * *

 

_“Tea?”_

_“What was that?”_

_“I asked if you wanted tea.”_

_“Sure,” he nodded absently, his attention glued to the console in front of him – researching sustainable farming in winter climates. “Sounds good.”_

_“Here,” her voice was soft as she came near to him, laying the hot mug in his workspace._

_“Thank you…” It was in that moment that he noticed something that he’d been missing. “Hey, you found…”_

_For half a second, his heart stopped beating in his chest._

_His shirt. That was his shirt._

_She was wearing his shirt. And little else, it seemed._

_“Mmm,” she leered impishly at him over the steaming brim of her own mug._

_Chakotay cleared his throat and shifted in his chair. “That’s my shirt.”_

_“Oh?” She looked down with a feigned innocence, with something else simmering just beneath the shallow surface. “This?”_

_Two could play this game. “Yes,” he kept his voice steady, meeting her eyes. “I’ve been looking for it.”_

_“Oh? Well…” With a languid movement, she reached behind and placed down her mug. “I suppose you’ll be wanting it back, then.”_

_“Quite,” he nodded. “If you please.”_

_“Well then…”_

* * *

 

“I’m not smirking,” he corrected lightly. “And even if I was… I have good reason to smirk.”

“Oh you do, do you?”

“An excellent reason, in fact.”

“Oh?” Another warm kiss found its way onto his skin as her hands began to wander south. “Do tell…”

* * *

 

_Before he’d had time to process, the salmon-coloured shirt had found its way abruptly onto his face before it slid down slowly and landed in his lap. Dumbfounded, his eyes followed its simple trajectory, still not quite believing what had indeed just happened._

_Wide-eyed, he looked up to find her still standing in front of him. Naked. Smirking at him._

_“Kath-“ The remainder of her name died in his throat as his eyes wandered over her body._

_He couldn’t remember how to breathe when he looked at her – all beautiful curves and angles; infinitely better than anything his imagination had ever conjured._

_“Chakotay?” His name said in brandy-wine tones cut through his stupor._

_She moved away from the edge of the table where she was perched, motioning to take the shirt back, nearly mortified. Heat began to rise up her neck, as it often did when she was embarrassed. Kathryn reached down for the shirt, but before she grasped it, she found it yanked away – thrown behind his chair._

_She looked up in surprise to see her same smirk reflected in his eyes – only now those eyes were tinged less with shock, and more with something else._

_“Kathryn Janeway,” He shook his head as his fingers found their way around her wrist before she was abruptly pulled onto lap._

_“Oh!” She overbalanced and fell into him._

_“I don’t think,” He wrapped his arms around her and ran his hands appreciatively over her bare back. “I’ll ever be able to keep up with you.”_

_The serenely appreciative, aroused smile on his face fomented a guffaw from deep inside of her. “I’m doing a terrible job of seducing you!” Kathryn chuckled, her whole chest now red in superfluous discomfiture._

_“Really?” Chakotay’s lips found purchase on her neck as his hands set on her hips, pushing her against what was easily palpable. “I definitely don’t think so…”_

_“Yes,” She snorted. “For a minute there I thought you’d had a stroke!”_

_“Hey,” he stopped kissing her to meet her eyes. “I thought your… performance there was pretty good.”_

_“Mm,” she nodded with a mocking seriousness. “I think you’re just saying that.”_

_“Well I think…” His hands left her hips to wrap around her backside, pulling her closer against him as he inched forward in the chair. “Do you want to know what I think?”_

_“Mmhm,” she pressed her legs tighter around his hips. “What do you think?”_

_“Well, I think, that you definitely,” He kissed her neck as her fingers played in his hair. “Definitely hit it out of the park. A-one, cadet…”_

_The sound of her rich laughter echoed throughout the cabin as he stood with her wrapped around him and headed for their bedroom._

* * *

 

“You know…” She said, kissing the perspiration on his chest. His arms wrapped around her and pulled her on top his body.   “We do still have work to do…”

Chakotay looked out the window, at the grey sky and the wind in the trees. “Yup,” was his unbothered response as he kissed that spot her neck, down lower to the valley between her breasts, making her sigh.

* * *

 

_His clothes fell easily onto the floor, thrown off with help from his companion in between kisses and laughter before the pair fell easily onto the soft bed. “I don’t ever want to stop touching you,” he whispered._

_She tittered softly, cradling his face between her hands, looking at him intently as his fingers ran up and down the soft skin inside of her thighs. “What?” He posited._

_“Nothing,” she beamed contentedly and ran her index finger over the beautiful fullness of his lips while her other hand went wandering and made his gasp._

* * *

 

“What time do you think it is?” Their bodies were sticky with perspiration and their skin held together. 

“I’m not sure…” she yawned against his chest. “We should probably get out of bed at some point.”

“…In the future,” he nodded tiredly against her hair. “Maybe... it all depends…”

“On?”

“On whether or not I want to stop making love to you any time soon…”

* * *

 

_The intimate press of him drew a gasp. “Am I hurting you?”_

_“No,” she opened her eyes slowly, coming back to herself. “Don’t stop,” hand on his backside, she pulled him closer, deeper. “Don’t… stop.”_

* * *

 

“Then we’re _never_ leaving this bed,” she sniggered, holding herself up as she slid out from under the covers. 

He watched as she walked away, relishing in her body in the morning light. “You’re beautiful.”

Kathryn shook her head and ran her hands through her hair as she sauntered into the bathroom. “You’re biased.”

He watched her a moment later as she busied herself in front of the sink before making her way back to him.  Kathryn was perfect, he thought.  Everything about her... “I’m biased, huh?” He pulled her back on top of him. 

“You’re definitely biased. I’m the only woman on this planet,” She pointed out with a peevish grin.

“Thank the Spirits for that,” he chuckled, earning him a shove before he pulled her down and kissed her thoroughly.

* * *

 

_The pleasure that rippled through her left her barely coherent; all that was left was a keening sense of joy that permeated every cell in her body._

_As she came back to herself, she heard him whisper into her hair. “What?”_

_“I said,” he said lowly into her ear. “I’m sorry.”_

_Her legs squeezed around his hips in response. “What, why?” To her own ears, her words were nearly slurred._

_Chakotay moved his weight off to regard her sheepishly. “That was fast.”_

_Kathryn shook her head against the pillow in disagreement. “Still,” tenderly, he moved a tangled strand of hair from her face._

_“So what you’re saying is…” The tone in her voice was rife with a roguish challenge._ _“You think we can do better?”_

 _“Yes,” he smiled, leaning down to kiss her neck, lower… “Definitely, we can do better.”_

* * *

 

“What?” Chakotay looked up as much as he could to survey what she was up to. Currently she had her fingers on his forehead – on his eyebrows specifically. “What _are_ you looking at?”

“Nothing,” Kathryn resumed her study. “I’m just looking at you.”

“Oh…” his eyes darted left, then right, confusedly. “Is something wrong…?”

“No,” she laughed and kissed his forehead before trailing a line of kisses down to his nose and finally his lips. “Nothing’s wrong. Absolutely nothing…” 

* * *

 

 _She collapsed atop him, body humming with pleasure as she strained to catch her breath_. _“Better,” she panted._

_Perspiration pooled in the space on his chest. “Mmm,” he leered, flipping them adeptly enough that he was still inside her when she landed on the bed. “An old Maquis manoeuvre…” His glint was devilish._

_“What other tricks did they teach you in the Maquis,” she laughed, breathlessly._

_“Oh, those I can’t tell you,” he shook his head seriously, warranting him a shove. “Ow! Hey, that information is top secret.”_

_“Oh really?” She rolled her eyes at him._

_“Don’t roll your eyes,” he leaned down and kissed her until they both wheezed from lack of air. “I’m serious.”_

_She laughed once more as he softened inside of her. “What other Maquis manoeuvres do you have up your sleeve?”_

_He grinned wickedly as her as he moved down her body. “I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.”_

* * *

 

The sun woke her the third time. Shining in through the skylight, the weather it seemed had finally taken a turn for the merrier – at least for now. She sighed happily against her pillow as she burrowed back against him. 

“Are you okay?” He mumbled, pulling her against his body.

She grinned, dragging the comforter up to shield her eyes from the sun. “Yeah,” she kissed the soft skin of the arm that was underneath her cheek. “I’m good.”


End file.
